Helena's Aeneid
by CardboardHut
Summary: Zoro and co. are surprised the find the Sun Queen on this side of the Red Line. Her presence there can't mean anything good. Final novel in my Straw Hats and the Iliad trilogy. Takes place between Fishman Island and Punk Hazard. Rated T for mild language and violence.
1. Chapter 1 - Scrap of Paper

**Author's Note:** This story is the third and final in my Straw Hats and the Iliad trilogy. I was initially going to try to write it with enough exposition to stand on its own, but it felt too bogged down. For a better understanding of the backstory on this, please see _Straw Hats and the Iliad_ and _Zoro's Odyssey_.

Takes place sometime after Fishman Island and before Punk Hazard. We're going to pretend there could be another arch squeezed in there. Yup. 

* * *

Ch. 1 – Scrap of Paper

Brook smiled to himself as he listened to the hum of the crew's conversation, barely audible to him over the thrum of his bow quietly running across the strings of the violin. It had been ages since he'd brought out the old instrument. Generally he preferred his electric guitar these days – stardom must have rubbed off on him a bit – but something about the evening called for a more nostalgic sound.

He and the crew had decided to take their dinner out onto the deck at the close of a remarkably peaceful day. Most of their plates and dishes stood empty now (or soon would be, if Luffy had a hand in anything), and the crewmates took advantage of the rare calm to swap stories about their adventures during the two year interim they'd been apart.

Brook had mentioned a bit about his tour, but he'd mostly been content to listen and provide background music. After all, that was why one had two ears and only one mouth, right? –To do twice as much listening. – not that he had either, yo ho!

He thoughtlessly played light variations of tunes that reflected the places he'd been. His managers had given him the opportunity to see a variety of interesting islands and people, though none he preferred as much as present company.

Without thinking too much about it, he started to softly sing one of the tunes. It was one of his favorite musical finds; a song about love and death and the blade, full of a sense of longing. He knew those feelings well:

" _Into the dark, my dear, my love_

 _Where bound by death you lay_

 _I walked with Death to bring you life_

 _Now by your side I'd stay_

 _In starless night, you are my Sun_

 _In shieldless fight, my sword, dear one_

 _For by your light, demons undone_

 _If by my side you'd stay_

 _You are my Sun,_

 _My sword, dear one_

 _If by my side you'd stay._

Lost in the music, he hadn't realized that the conversation around the lawn table had ceased. Almost everyone had stopped to stare at him, but the skeleton sang on, oblivious:

 _But to the waves, my dear, my love,_

 _The Captain calls, I must away_

 _For honor bound, I leave your side,_

 _Though in your heart I'll stay_

 _'Gainst death's blight, you are my Life_

 _'Gainst broken rite, my Heart, my wife_

 _For in your sight, I conquer strife._

 _You are my mainstay_

 _You are my Life_

 _My Heart, my Wife_

 _You are my mainstay_

"Ah, I apologize," Brook said, noticing the stares at last. "I didn't mean to play so loudly and interrupt the conversation."

Usopp shook his head. "It's not that," he said, shooting a furtive glance at Zoro. Actually, it seemed like just about everyone kept shooting glances back at Zoro. The swordsman nonchalantly sipped his beer, expression calm and stoic as though he didn't notice their scrutiny.

"Brook, where…?" Nami started, brow furrowed. "Where did you learn that song?"

"Ah, I picked it up on tour," the old skeleton said. "On a small, strange island called Ilium. Perhaps you've heard of it? They're the chief manufacturers of sea prism stone and ruled by a woman called the Sun Queen. I think you'd like her, Zoro-San," Brook said this pointedly to try to draw the obviously disinterested swordsman into the tale. "She fights with four swords, one in each hand, and one clutched in the toes of each foot! I've never seen anything like it! Yo ho ho!"

"Sounds pretty precarious," Zoro remarked. "Footing is important." He stood and started toward the kitchens, his tankard now clearly empty.

Brook nodded. "She has incredible balance, and she's quite flexible. I've never seen a sword style quite like hers. Oh, and she was a big fan of my music! I was invited to play at the palace itself! A word from the wise: don't ever ask to see her panties." He said this last bit sagely.

Zoro paused beside the skeleton at this. Everyone tensed, though Brook couldn't say why. But then a crooked smile broke the swordsman's face:

"Oh, I've seen more than her panties," he said quietly, then went on his merry way.

The concupiscent skeleton fell to the deck with a nosebleed.

* * *

Zoro let the others explain as he strode into the kitchen to grab a refill, grinning to himself. Franky and Brook naturally had a lot of questions: they hadn't been there when Zoro had accidentally won himself a bride by defeating the Queen of Ilium in a duel. Twice.

He heard his crewmates giving the tail-end of the story to Franky and Brook when he came back out onto the deck, clutching a full mug.

He decided not to join them. They were telling it far better than he ever would, even if Usopp was embellishing it some. Instead, the swordsman turned his attention out to the calm waves, leaning against Sunny's railing as he sipped his beer.

When the tale was through, Brook let out a low chuckle.

"Yo ho ho! I had no idea Zoro-San had such an incredible love story in his past," he said. "I'm sad to report that the Queen doesn't seem to be doing so well now, though. When I left she had…"

"SHH!" Nami shushed him loudly. Zoro could practically feel her cast her eyes in his direction.

"But surely he's seen the papers…?" Brook started.

"We aren't supposed to talk about any of that around Zoro," Nami informed him. "See, Zoro and Helena were honor bound to marry because he defeated her in a duel, but she actually fell in love with him, so she insisted that we follow certain rules. One of them was that he would go to sea with us soon after they were married. The other was that he receive no news of her or Ilium, because it could distract him from his dream."

"I was wondering why Zoro-bro would be here if he had a superrr sword-babe somewhere he could be with," Franky put in. "She sounds almost too super to be true."

Zoro chuckled to himself; Franky couldn't be more right. He'd really lucked out as far as Helena was concerned. Nami had left out one proviso, even – namely that his wife didn't want to see his face in Ilium until he'd become the world's greatest swordsman. Helena had been trying, almost too hard in fact, to keep him from feeling any sense of responsibility toward her or her kingdom, but it had gotten her into a bit of trouble recently.

"But shouldn't someone tell him…?" Brook tried to insist, but Nami shushed him again.

Zoro smiled. He already knew. He knew that Helena had been set upon by suitors who claimed he was dead. He also knew that Ilium had been embroiled in a small war about three months ago. He knew because he'd been there. He'd bypassed Helena's little proviso about him not showing his face in Ilium by wearing a mask. And he'd helped her put the suitors, and their World Government backers, in their place.

In the crew's most recent bout of swapping tales about their adventures, Zoro hadn't really said much by way of where he'd been the past two years, just to mention he'd been training. He hadn't felt the need to mention Mihawk yet. And he had also failed to mention that he'd seen Helena again. It just hadn't come up.

One thing had started to bother him though. Helena had promised to write to him after their last encounter. It was the one revision to the provisos she'd allowed. However, in the three months since they'd parted ways he'd received nothing.

Well, she was a busy woman after all. Perhaps she simply hadn't had time.

"He's bound to hear something sooner or later, even if we keep censoring the papers for him," Usopp put in pensively. Though the rest had started to talk in furtive whispers, he'd forgotten to keep his voice down. "I think we should tell him."

Zoro felt his stomach twinge. Tell him what? Surely the battle at Ilium was old news. Had something more recent happened?

He quickly pulled his attention away. It was on him as much as them to keep to Helena's provisos. He had the self-control to stop listening. _Helena can take care of herself,_ he reminded himself.

Searching for further reassurance, he reached into his haramaki to find the letter she had given to him when they'd first parted. He wanted to see the words; her confident send-off. Yes, Helena was fine. She was a powerful queen and a strong swordsman. Nothing could possibly have…

Where had the letter gone?

He rummaged for it with an increasing sense of dread. Had he dropped it? When at last his fingers found the waxy parchment, he yanked it free with mounting relief only to feel his stomach plummet down into his boots yet again.

Only a small corner of the card remained; not even a word of her note. Had he torn it? No, it had holes in it like tiny lace carved away by sadistic fairy swordsmen. Even as he stared at it, a miniscule part of it shred before his eyes, a small particle flecking off like white sand from an hourglass.

"No…" the word escaped him as his grip slipped on the half-empty tankard he'd forgotten he was holding.

Beer splashed across the deck. Ever vigilant about wasted food, Sanji shot up from the table:

"Oy! Marimo! You know the rule about…"

The cook's belligerent tone lost its bite as Zoro turned to face them, eye wide. He held out the scrap of paper, unable to form a coherent thought much less sentence.

Sanji shot to his feet. "Is that what I think it is?" the Cook asked. Trust him to recognize it. He'd been the one to deliver it, after all.

"Her vivre card," Zoro managed quietly at last.

He blinked, and the crew surrounded him. Their voices still seemed distant though:

"Does this mean she's dying?" someone asked.

"It's like Ace's," another pointed out.

"Zoro, what do you want us to do?"

He couldn't place who was saying what, but at mention of Ace, he found himself. His fist closed over the tiny scrap signifying Helena's life force, and he looked up at the crew.

"She's having her own adventure now," he informed them, remembering what Luffy had once said about his brother. "She went through a lot of trouble to keep me out of it. She'd be mad if we interfered now."

The crew fell silent at this pronouncement, exchanging worried glances that said they knew something he didn't.

The captain stood with his hat shadowing his face, momentarily hiding his feelings. Then his hand closed vicelike over Zoro's wrist. "Zoro," he said sternly, then looked up to meet Zoro's gaze. "She's my friend too. And I'm not about to make the same mistake twice."

Zoro's grip loosened around the vivre card, and Luffy snatched it from his hand, handing it deftly to Nami. The Navigator was already halfway toward the helm before Zoro found a response:

"Wait, but she's on the other side of the Red Line!" he called, "How are we supposed to…?"

"We might not have to worry about that," Nami said, not turning back.

"What? Why not…?" Zoro started, but trailed off as the rest of the crew sprang into action, pointedly ignoring him.

They couldn't tell him anything, but that wasn't going to keep them from acting. He'd just have to trust them for now.

* * *

Three days later and Helena's vivre card had been reduced to the size of a thumbnail, but still no sign of her. Despite his initial bravado, Zoro faced the dawn of day three with increasing anxiety. No one said anything to him. What could they say?

"What are we looking for?" he dared to ask Nami at the helm. "Is she on an island somewhere here in the New World or…?"

"Could be," she replied non-commitally, eyeing the shrinking scrap of paper sitting on the large compass face before her. A glass dome kept the sea breeze from blowing the vivre card every which way; it was pointing straight ahead. "There's still a possibility she's not in the New World after all, but there's a chance. Last we heard…"

She bit her lip and turned away. Zoro understood that she couldn't say anymore. It tried his patience, but he didn't pressure her.

Just then Usopp's voice rang over the loudspeaker from the Observation Room:

"There's something in the water, dead ahead!"

Nami and Zoro squinted from their position on the prow. They couldn't see anything yet.

"Is it dangerous?" Nami called into a transponder snail that hooked up to the crow.

"Hard to say," Usopp replied. "Doesn't seem very big. Lots of birds around it. Maybe it's a dead fish or something?"

Luffy, who sat in his usual spot on Sunny's figurehead, jumped to his feet at this pronouncement: "Food?"

As the Sunny plowed forward, whatever it was became a dark blotch in the near distance. Curiosity drove the rest of the crew members toward the prow.

"I don't think it's a fish," Franky said, narrowing his enhanced gaze, "That looks like a…"

"It's a boat!" Usopp called from above, and Franky nodded.

"Not just a boat, a lifeboat, half sunk," the shipwright said. "Looks like the kind the Navy use."

"Whoever it is will probably need medical attention," Chopper cried, fixing his pack firmly to his back. He hadn't misheard Franky's comment about it being Navy; he'd obviously chosen to ignore it.

"By the look of those birds, whoever escaped in that is already dead," Franky pointed out with a grimace. "But we can get the Mini-Merry out and check to be sure, Chopper-bro. Might be a chance." He started down the steps with the small doctor close at his heels.

Zoro turned from the distant wreck to the disintegrating paper scrap on the compass. "We don't have time for this," he rumbled under his breath. Thankfully who or whatever it was was right in their path, so it shouldn't sidetrack them for long. Still, he found his altruism waning in light of Helena's predicament.

"There's someone standing up in there," Sanji noticed as the dark blotch drew closer. "They aren't waving us down or anything though. That's weir…" His signature cigarette dropped from his mouth as his jaw went slack. "Do…do you guys see what I'm seeing?"

Robin nodded. "That person isn't standing on the boat. He's floating above it." She crossed her arms over her body, preparing to use her lotus powers. "I'll get a closer look."

"I see it too," Brook added softly. "He's floating. Strange. He seems familiar somehow."

Usopp's panicked voice rang out over the intercom. "Zoro," he called. "I think I know who it is! That's…"

"…Hades!" Robin said in tandem with the sniper, stumbling out of her stance with eyes wide.

Luffy's brow furrowed beneath his straw hat. " _That_ guy?!"

"Zoro, if he's there, that can only mean one thing!" Robin cried. "He's come for a member of the royal family!"

Zoro dashed to the prow again, a hand on his swords for the good it would do him. "Helena!" he shouted to no response.

They could all see the lifeboat clearly now – half sunk, its nose sticking up in the air, it plodded toward them through the calm waters. The upraised prow hid any passengers from view. Above it, and darker than any shadow, hovered a black cloaked figure with a bone white face.

"I couldn't see inside the boat," Robin said in a rush, then shivered. "Hades looked right at me. He wanted me gone."

"It's her," Sanji affirmed suddenly, and the others didn't doubt how he could tell. "And…someone else…?" A few moments later and Zoro could sense it too – Helena's amber aura, quickly fading. And another aura; young, verdant. Zoro's panicked doubled over.

From the helm, Nami called into her transponder to Chopper and Franky, who had just set out in the Mini-Merry. "Guys, we think it's Helena! Hurry!"

As they watched from their distant vantage, Hades lifted an elegant, black gloved hand, and a golden light flared up from within the boat.

"YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM!" Zoro shouted, jumping onto the figurehead, but Luffy was way ahead of him. The rubber man had grabbed onto two of the lion figurehead's mane spikes, dashing back as far as he could go. Without thinking, Zoro had placed himself right in the Captain's path.

"Them?" Sanji asked, but his question disappeared as Luffy shouted:

"Gomu gomu no ROCKET!"

"Wait, Luffy…!" Zoro started, but it was too late. The captain had launched himself straight at Death, taking the swordsman with him.

* * *

Helena lay inside her floating tomb, her gaze half focused on the Death God floating above her. She clutched a small, sleeping figure to her chest, wrapped in a tarp against the morning chill.

"Please," Helena begged weakly, arms contracting with conviction but little strength around her bundle, "If you take me, what will happen to her?"

" _Helena de Zoro, daughter of Prometheus,"_ Hades replied, but the voice coming from the slit of his white mask didn't belong to him. It was a woman's voice, alto, calm, soothing. " _Come and rest."_

"Mother?" Helena had heard that voice once before, but it had been Hades using it then too. Even if she had never met her mother in life, it felt familiar and reassuring. Perhaps she remembered it from the womb.

" _Come and rest."_

She blinked, reminding herself that the person addressing her wasn't her mother. Anyway, the voice was lying to her. There would be no rest for her on the other side, and well had she earned her punishment.

"No," she rasped with as much defiance as she could muster. "Not…yet…"

It was no use. She had been a fool to take on an admiral. Compound her injuries from that and other battles with weeks adrift without food or water, and her body wouldn't allow her to remain in the mortal plane. Her eyelids fluttered, straining to stay open against their own, impossible weight.

An exuberant, unmistakable voice pierced the fog clouding her dying senses.

"SWOOOOOORD PRINCEEEEEEESSS!"

Was that who she thought it was?

The energy in the cry gave her just the spark she needed to open her eyes again, at least for a moment. In that moment she saw Hades step back in the air, both arms waving in front of him in alarm as though to ward off some unstoppable force. Was it her imagination, or did the God of Death look…scared?

A moment later, a blur of red and blue and green came barreling straight through Hades' incorporeal form, and Death fled in a puff of smoke.

"Luffy, you idioooooo-!" shouted a voice she'd thought she'd never hear again, followed by a loud splash.

 _Zoro…?_ She thought, blinking again and again, but she lacked the strength to push herself upright for a better look. A moment later, a shadow fell over her as a sheep figurehead filled her view. _The Merry…?_

Now she knew she must be dreaming. After all, the Straw Hats now sailed on a different ship. Still, as her consciousness started to fade, she thought she heard the voice of Dr. Tony Tony Chopper:

"It _is_ her, Franky! Hurry! We have to get her back to the Sunny!"

* * *

Zoro watched the Mini-Merry speed away with his wife in tow. He might have been angry with Franky and Chopper for leaving himself and Luffy behind in the water, but it was obvious by their urgency that Helena needed help. Fast.

He didn't go straight to the ship when he saw them shoot away. Instead he dragged Luffy through the water as far as Helena's abandoned lifeboat. Throwing his reckless captain aboard, he quickly inspected the half sunk vessel for something he had a feeling that the others would have forgotten in their rush.

He swallowed when he noticed the things the little boat lacked – food and water for one. A rudder, sail, or oars for another. Perhaps it had been stocked at first, but it had clearly seen some kind of crazy, New World storm. Helena had survived out here with practically nothing for who knew how long.

He quickly found something that Chopper and Franky had overlooked; the queen's swords. She'd wrapped them in what must have been a tattered piece of the sail and some frayed rope. When he picked them up, something felt wrong.

Allowing Luffy a moment to catch his breath, the swordsman quickly unwrapped the bundle to be sure he had them all; three rapier and a long, sea prism dagger. They were all there. The weight felt off, though.

He pulled each sword from its sheath in turn. Her sea stone dagger looked as wicked and sharp as ever. Her two foot blades had been replaced by some newer, more decorative ones with snake filigree along the hilt. He didn't recognize the make at all, but as they didn't account for the change in weight he didn't dwell on them. His jaw clenched when reached Peleus, her most prized sword, however.

He could tell the moment his hand closed over the hilt; here was the problem he was searching for. From a glance it seemed fine; a little grimy within its sheath perhaps. The sapphires in the inlay of the crossbar, the emerald of her wedding band welded to hilt, seemed dead without their usual gleam. But that was nothing to what he knew he'd find if he drew the blade.

"Zoro?" Luffy asked, still coughing a bit. He sat cross-legged in the boat, holding a big tarp bundle in his lap. The Captain was probably scrounging for a snack as always. Zoro was too distracted to notice or care.

"This blade was forged by one of Helena's gods," Zoro explained softly. "I…thought it was invincible."

Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled Peleus from its sheath. Sure enough, he only found a couple inches of blade attached to the grimy hilt.

"It broke?" Luffy asked, and even he seemed a bit taken aback.

"Melted," Zoro observed, inspecting the tip of the once proud blade. It still had a point on it, like the hollow curve of a candle. Out of curiosity he tested its sharpness, then gave a start.

The Queen's Blade had been crafted to always protect, and never harm a member of the royal family. Zoro had discovered first hand that that included the Queen's husband.

Then why had it drawn blood from his hand?

"Uh, Zoro," Luffy exclaimed suddenly, gazing into the folds of the tarp in his lap. "Why is there a mini you in here?"

"A mini…?" Zoro gave a start as the response caught in his throat, realizing he'd given too much attention to Helena's blades when there was far more precious cargo aboard. He scrambled toward Luffy, scooping the bundle from the Captain's arms just as a little head covered in dirty, mint-green curls popped out of the canvas folds.

"Papa…?" the little toddler managed, gazing at him blearily.

"PAPA?!" Luffy exclaimed, his flexible jaw dropping all the way to his knees in his shock. "Zoro, you're a daddy?!"

* * *

"PAPA?!" the crew exclaimed minutes later in the kitchen of the Sunny.

Chopper wasn't there with the others. He had a patient to attend to after all. Zoro had rushed his daughter to the infirmary, but after the toddler had tackled their fluffy doctor and screamed about how cute he was, Chopper had declared she was obviously fine and sent Zoro away with instructions to get her hydrated and fed. He'd been too worried about Helena to even respond to the idea that Zoro had a kid in the first place.

Sitting with her now as she sat boosted up by cushions on one of the dining chairs and gulped water from a cup, he couldn't help a mild smirk at everyone else's not wholly unexpected, bug-eyed expressions. If they'd had Luffy's devil fruit powers, their jaws would presumably be on the ground, just like his still was. In fact, it hadn't recovered since Luffy had first met the kid out on the now completely submerged lifeboat.

Robin was the only one who didn't seem wholly surprised. She gazed at the child with a contemplative look, but as usual she wasn't exactly the easiest to read. Sanji spoke before she could voice her thoughts:

"But…but…how did this happen?!" he exclaimed as the little girl noisily slurped her water.

Nami raised an eyebrow at him, but it was Brook who decided to play smart.

"Ah, well, you see Sanji-San: when a Mommy loves a Daddy very much…" he intoned with a gravitas that made it unclear whether he were yanking the cook's chain or genuinely explaining the obvious.

"Shut up, Brook!" Sanji snapped before rounding on Zoro. "That's not what I meant. I meant how did the dumb Marimo end up having a kid before me?!"

"It helps that I've actually gotten laid, Idiot Cook," Zoro couldn't help but retort.

Sanji looked like he might start a Diable Jamble in his own hair, but Zoro had set himself up to have the last word in this particular battle:

"Now can you get my kid something to eat already?" he went on. "I thought you had a thing against letting people starve in your galley."

The fire in Sanji's eyes diminished, though he grumbled to himself about life not being fair as he marched swiftly to the fridge and started rummaging.

"I'm more surprised that your kid is so…so…" Usopp started.

"So _what_ , Long-Nose?" Zoro asked, just as the girl set down her cup and hiccupped.

"Uh…cute?" Usopp dared to answer.

"Why's _that_ such a surprise?" Zoro demanded.

"Well, I mean, she does look just like you," Usopp dared to retort, shrugging.

"No she doesn't!" Nami cried, apparently taken aback by such an insinuation. She turned to pat the child on the hand. "She's actually _pretty._ Like her Mama."

"I pwetty like Papa," the little girl insisted, grinning at her with baby teeth.

This made Zoro's brow furrow while the others laughed at his expense. Their laughter ceased when the little girl's stomach growled loud enough to be heard over them.

"Hurry it up, Cook!" Zoro barked at Sanji, but with his usual precision and speed, the cook was already there with a plate of sandwiches.

He placed them in front of their little charge, who stared at them. She looked up at Sanji, then at her father. A moment later she grabbed the whole plate, hopped out of her chair, and started across the room.

"What's up, kid?" Zoro asked, following her. She looked up at him with a determined look on her face.

"Mama eat," she stated firmly, and Zoro realized she had been walking toward the infirmary. He and the others exchanged glances.

"Mama say she no need to eat," she went on. "But Mama lying. She really, really hungy."

Zoro ruffled her dirty hair as emotion swelled in his throat. "Your Mama took really good care of you," he said.

And had obviously done so at her own expense. Zoro had gotten a good look at her when he'd stopped by the infirmary.

He was surprised anyone in the crew had recognized her. He almost didn't. Her usually fair skin now showed her Alabastan roots as it had darkened and reddened by long exposure to the harsh sun. Her hair, once fashionably cropped and styled, had grown out an inch or so in a wild, matted mess. It had turned from blond to perfectly white like her father's. A small burn scar splashed across the side of her face now, just beside her eye. The Marine uniform she wore hung from her emaciated frame in tatters. Bits of it had been torn off to make inadequate bandages for several festering wounds.

And yet, to all appearances their daughter suffered little more than a mild sunburn and some signs of fatigue. Based on what she had just said, Helena had given her most of their food and supplies as well.

This seemed to strike a chord within Nami especially, who turned away to hide the emotion in her face. Sanji too seemed upset.

"Chopper said not to feed Helena anything yet," he informed the room self-consciously. "He said he's not sure what her stomach can take yet. He's got her hooked up to an IV and said he'd keep me posted."

Robin walked over and knelt down beside the child, looked her in the face, and responded to her distress with reassuring calm:

"Your mother will be all right, Kuina-san," she said with conviction. "Our doctor is the very best in the world. He is taking good care of her."

Kuina nodded and allowed Robin to lead her back to the table. She took one of the sandwiches in her tiny hand, pulled it apart and started eating it piece by piece with toddler-like concentration.

Zoro turned his attention to Robin. "How," he asked. "Did you know her name?"

Robin blinked at him, taken aback, then looked at the others. "You all didn't know about her?" she asked them. They shrugged back at her.

"Ow! I didn't even know Zoro had a wife until a few days ago!" Franky pointed out. "You guys never said anything about a kid!"

"She wasn't mentioned in the news," Nami defended. "Not that _I_ saw. How _did_ you know, Robin?"

"Without her majesty's permission, I don't know that I can tell you much," she said calmly to Zoro.

Zoro returned her stubborn gaze with equal resolve. During his brief time in the infirmary, Helena had woken briefly. Her rasped words to him still rang through his ears as though she had stated them with all the regal, unquestionable authority she normally possessed:

"Zoro…?" she had croaked, as Chopper tried to escape Kuina's fond grip.

Zoro had taken her dry, sunburnt hand as her crusted eyes flickered open to meet his.

"What happened to you?" he asked softly.

The pain in her eyes went beyond whatever had transpired on that little lifeboat. She closed them as though trying to keep it all inside of her, and his hand tightened around hers.

"Provisos be damned, Helena!" Zoro said vehemently. "What do they matter at a time like this?

Before losing hold on consciousness, she'd murmured a response that made his heart stop.

Sitting around the dining table now with his crewmates, his half-starved infant daughter shoveling food into her mouth beside him, Zoro met Robin's stoic gaze with a burning one of his own, and repeated Helena's heavy words:

"Ilium has fallen," he said, then went on with conviction. "The provisos are no more because Ilium is no more. Tell me everything."


	2. Chapter 2 - Politics, Papoose, & Potty T

**Author's Note** : Guys, this one is going to be slow updating. I'm so sorry. I just had another baby like a week ago, and life has been really crazy besides that. Also, while I have certain crucial scenes in mind, I haven't fully connected this story in my brain as well as I had with the last two.

Thanks to everyone for the supportive, kind reactions to Ch. 1 going up. I was floored. Hopefully you will enjoy this story as much as the last two, despite its slow update schedule.

* * *

Ch. 2 – Politics, Papoose, and Potty Training

Zoro eyed Luffy, who watched Kuina down her sandwiches with a will, clearly jealous that she got an extra snack so soon after breakfast time. He knew better than to steal her food, but he was obviously tempted. Zoro wasn't taking any chances.

Now comfortably situated in an ornate booster seat that Franky had hastily fashioned for her (insisting that he would do better later with more time), Kuina stared back at the captain, big, brown eyes wide and innocent. It was hard to say if she understood what the grown-ups around the table discussed, but then, she had experienced it all firsthand anyway.

"We only know as much as we've seen in the papers," Nami started, drawing Zoro's attention to her.

"Then tell me what you know," he replied as calmly as he could manage.

Nami took a deep breath, before continuing. When she spoke, she looked both apologetic and relieved, as though saying it lifted a weight off of her shoulders – off of everyone's shoulders, really. "A bit over two months ago it made the front page," she said. "Ilium had been conquered under the direction of the High Admiral Sakasuki, and with the help of the Schichibuki."

 _So Mihawk was in on it too,_ Zoro thought, feeling betrayed. He knew he and Mihawk didn't owe one another any loyalty, but it tasted bitter all the same. He wondered if Helena and Mihawk had faced off. Despite her skill, she wouldn't have stood a chance. Zoro hadn't been able to train her enough before they'd parted ways, and it didn't sound like that idiot Calypso Blue would have had time to help her much either. But then, Calypso could have held his ground against Mihawk. Probably. Where had he been during all of this?

At mention of Akainu, Luffy's fists tightened where they rested on the table. He lost all interest in Kuina's food. "I was ready to turn back, Zoro," he said, voice tight with emotion. "We found out after we beat up Hordy at Fishman."

"There wasn't anything we could do by then," Usopp reminded the captain. "The paper already said the King of Ilium and their General had been captured and sent to Impel Down to await sentencing. The Queen was pronounced MIA, presumed dead."

"Pops is in prison, huh?" Zoro said.

Nami nodded. "Hector too."

"What about everyone else?"

"If any of our friends survived, they'll be scattered in slave camps throughout the Grand Line," Robin said, entering the room. She had slipped out so quietly, Zoro almost hadn't noticed her leave. "The Island of Ilium has been turned into a naval base, and I can guarantee that none of the initial inhabitants currently reside there."

"Oh my!" Brook exclaimed, "That sounds too horrible, even for the World Government."

"You do remember the human trafficking rings on Saobody, right?" Usopp pointed out with a raised brow. "I hadn't heard of slave _camps_ before though. Are you sure about this, Robin?"

Robin didn't bother answering the question. "Ilium has been utterly wiped off the face of the island and her people scattered. Her history has been erased as well. I know they burned the palace, and the extensive library it contained to the ground. All of the annuls of Ilium have been lost, as has the Grove of Kings."

Naturally Robin would notice and mourn something like this, but it cut Zoro deeply as well. His son's grave had been in that grove. Zoro found himself contemplating turning back, waging war on Marie Jois directly for the horrors its leaders had caused. He might have formed a satisfactory, if not entirely feasible plan then and there, but Robin dropped a piece of parchment in front of him.

It showed a picture of a woman with blood trickling down the side of her face, her fair, cropped hair gleaming in the light of the city aflame behind her. A bejeweled sun gleamed on her furrowed brow, dangling from a gold and white laurel circlet over her blazing, russet eyes. Her swords cycloned around her, mouth wide open in an angry battle cry.

 _Helena the Heretic_ it said, _Wanted: Dead or Alive._

Zoro grinned despite himself. Well, if Helena was going to have a wanted poster, at least she looked pretty hard core. Then he caught sight of her bounty.

"She went supernova right away, eh?" he asked, pointing at her 200,000,000 Beri bounty with a note of pride in his voice.

Normally he'd feel competitive toward her; after all, she was a swordsman and her bounty was higher than his. But this was his wife they were talking about. – Any boost to her ego was a boost to his own. Not to mention that the bounty made sense. On top of her considerable swordsmanship, she was the missing queen of a once powerful nation and heir to apocalyptic God Powers. It made sense that the World Government would be eager to find her.

She had just given him a new benchmark to strive for. He would surpass her in time, he had no doubt.

"She did, though this isn't her first bounty," Robin replied. "It started at 100,000,000, but doubled about two weeks ago. They changed her name to 'Heretic' then too. Before that, her poster called her, 'The Sun Queen.'"

"Why, what happened two weeks ago?" Zoro asked. Heretic wasn't a new nickname for Helena within her own kingdom; why had the world government decided to adopt it later in lieu of her more regal epithet?

Robin leveled her calm gaze on his. "Because two weeks ago she murdered a Celestial Dragon on the Red Line."

Zoro's jaw went slack. That was a gutsy if not suicidal move, and it explained the excessive bounty. So Helena had beaten him to Marie Jois, but she hadn't gone after Akainu. Why? – not that he hadn't wanted to cut down a few of those dastards himself, but the World Nobles seemed like an odd target; not worth the trouble.

"When this wanted poster came out," Robin said tapping Helena's picture with a long, white finger, "I noticed another one I hadn't seen before."

She dropped another poster onto the table: that of a child. A child with wild, green curls.

Zoro's amusement over Helena's bounty evaporated.

"But that's…that's your kid!" Usopp exclaimed, gazing between the poster and its living counterpart, who was still busy eating her sandwiches. "She's already got a bounty? She's, what, two?"

Trust Robin to notice the wanted poster of a child. The others may have overlooked it in the big stack that the World Government regularly sent out, but not her.

That explained how Robin knew her name. The poster listed her as, "Princess Kuina du Prometheus." – Technically it should have had her as "du Helena" or "du Zoro," but it wasn't incorrect to list her by her ancestral name either. They probably didn't want to tie her to two people with considerably higher bounties and frighten off rooky bounty hunters. She was, after all, only a child. Easy pickings.

She had a bounty of 35,000,000 beris. That was higher than Luffy's first bounty had been, but considering what Kuina could be used _for_ , Zoro was surprised it wasn't higher. At least the twisted lowlifes who'd had the poster made had the decency to list her as, "Wanted: Alive."

Speaking of what Kuina could be used for: "Where were the Gods in all this?" Zoro demanded. "What about the God Powers? I thought they were the reason Ilium has been independent for so long!"

Surely the gods with whom Helena had quarreled would not abandon the kingdom out of spite for its queen?

Then he remembered the broken sword. Peleus had been forged by the gods, and now no longer functioned as it should. Was it a sign that the gods had finally had enough of Helena and her defiance?

"The papers don't say anything about how Ilium was conquered," Robin replied. "However, if you'll look at this cover page, you'll notice…"

She dropped a newspaper in front of him, resting her finger on a wideshot of the country Zoro had come to love for the sake of the woman who ruled it. Mycenae, the small town in front of the capitol, lay completely in ashes, not a stone left on top of another. Parts of the enormous, sea prism walls in front of the city had collapsed, showing Ilium ablaze behind it. Orange and red glowed all the way up the mountainside, hiding the palace from view.

But Robin wasn't pointing at the city. She pointed at the backlit bay in front of it, where an entire cliff face had completely collapsed into the sea.

"The Sea Prism mines," Zoro observed.

"They didn't care about preserving Ilium's goods anymore. They just wanted it destroyed," Robin told him. "That's my theory anyway. And if they didn't care about the sea prism, my guess is they didn't care to obtain access to the God Powers either. I'm not sure what they did to bypass them, but whatever it was, I'm guessing it was something drastic. It's easier to destroy something when you don't care to preserve any part of it."

Zoro nodded pensively. So much of it was speculative. Naturally Helena would be able to tell them all more, but in her present condition they'd have to be content to wait.

At this point in the conversation, Kuina had finished her sandwiches. At least, Zoro hoped she had. With Luffy watching her eat, one could never tell after all, but the sandwiches were gone. In any case, the girl stood up on top of her booster seat, punched a fist into the air and pronounced loudly:

"Need to check potty!"

Zoro blinked at her, along with the rest of the crew. An unexpected grin crossed his face:

"So you're all potty trained now, eh kid?"

"Yup! I wear big girl panties! See?" She grabbed the skirt of her bedraggled dress and was about to lift it high when Zoro scooped her up.

"I believe you!" he exclaimed, shooting a glare toward Brook. The skeleton's eye-sockets widened in innocent surprise.

"I did not ask to see her panties," he pointed out, then leaned over to Nami, "However, Miss Nami, I wouldn't mind seeing…"

He didn't finished the sentence. Nami had pegged him in the head.

Zoro started toward the door only to have a sudden realization: he had never taken a kid to the bathroom before. How exactly did this work?

"Gotta go peeeeee!" the toddler squealed.

"Uh…" Zoro shot a glance back at the crew. None of them looked like they were exactly nanny material. "Any of you guys done this before?"

For some reason his gaze settled on Usopp, as had the eyes of Nami and Luffy. The sharp shooter returned their look with a bemused one of his own.

"Guys, why would you think I know anything about potty training?"

"Well, your original crew was a bunch of kids," Nami pointed out. Luffy nodded sagely at this.

"They were all _older_ kids," he insisted. "All my pirates were potty trained by the time they joined my crew, thank you very much. Anyway, since when was it the captain's responsibility to take crew mates to the bathroom? By that logic, Luffy should take her."

Luffy's brow furrowed in pensive thought. After a moment he nodded, and got to his feet. "I'll teach her to aim real good."

"Girl's don't need to aim!" Nami informed him in horror.

Zoro quickly laid down the law at this: "Luffy is not taking her to the bathroom," he said, turning toward the door again with his teeth gritted. "I'll figure it out."

Nami sighed, standing, but Robin took Kuina from Zoro's arms before the navigator could speak. "Allow me," she said in her calm, collected way.

"You've worked with kids before?" Zoro asked somewhat incredulously.

"No," Robin said with a small chuckle, "But I'm sure it won't be too difficult. Come on, little Princess."

She returned a minute later. Far too soon to have made it to the bathroom and back. "All taken care of," she reported with a smile.

"How'd you make it to the toilet so fast?" Zoro asked.

"Toilet?" Robin replied, bemused. "She said she wanted to go over the side."

"AND YOU LET HER?" Zoro demanded. "What did you do, hold her out over the railing with your powers?"

"Did I do something wrong?" Robin asked in genuine confusion, placing the giggling toddler on the ground. Robin turned to Nami, "I believe it would be of interest to you that a lone rain cloud has materialized aft. It appears to be following us, Navigator-San."

"That's…not normal," Nami observed unnecessarily, standing with her brow furrowed in curiosity.

A deafening thunderclap rattled the sturdy ship, jolting the crew to their feet. Kuina hadn't toddled her way over to her father yet, and fell down on her rump in surprise, letting out a loud wail as she held her ears. "Too Loud!" she sobbed.

Grumbling about the unpredictability of New World weather, Nami jumped to her feet and dashed out the door a moment later, the crew hot on her heels.

* * *

Luffy rushed outside with his mates, excitedly searching for the mystery storm cloud and finding none. Calm ocean and clear skies reigned on all sides. It was probably a good thing too. In their alarm at hearing a storm come on so fast, they'd forgotten to secure Zoro's kid. She had followed them out onto the main deck.

In her rush not to be left behind, she'd run head on into Luffy and bounced onto her backside. The captain turned to see what had hit him, caught sight of her scrambling on chubby legs to get upright, and grinned.

"You ok, Little Zoro?" he asked, picking her up.

"Want Papa," she said defiantly.

Something about her attachment to Zoro made Luffy like her all the more, widening his grin. Before he could hand her over, the cracking sound reverberated through the ship again, knocking the crew off of their feet once more.

This time they could all see what had caused it. An angry, black storm cloud had just burst from under the ocean beside the Sunny, sending lightning every which way.

"What the…?" Sanji started, only to stop short as the lightning danced across the deck, starting small fires. Luffy shielded Kuina with his rubber body while everyone else dove for cover.

The cloud darted around the ship, diving into the ocean again.

"Wormy," Kuina said, pointing at it. "He mean."

"Wormy?" Zoro asked.

Robin's eyes grew wide. "Wait, you don't mean a Stormwyrm, do you?"

"A what?" Usopp demanded, grunting with the strain of heavy lifting. Franky had enlisted the sniper's help in strapping a salt water tank onto the Cyborg.

Before Robin could answer, or Franky could convert the cannons on his shoulders into fire-extinguishers, the cloud resurfaced on the port side, thunder rumbling through it, awaiting release. This time Luffy didn't wait for it to shower his ship with electricity. Still clutching Kuina, he threw a gum gum pistol right into the center of the storm cloud.

Something screeched inside when he made contact, and a moment later the storm cloud dissipated, revealing what appeared to be a giant, black eel at its center. On both sides of its smooth, wet body, the beast had fanned webbing that looked like it could serve as fins underwater, but currently pumped like wings, keeping it airborne. Luffy vaguely wondered if it was good eating, but mostly wondered if it would be fun to ride on.

He had hit it right on its snoot, if its crinkled visage was any indication. It didn't look happy. A moment later it dove back under the waves.

"Lot of wormies follow," Kuina said. "Momma fight lots and lots."

Robin nodded. "Stormwyrms usually hunt in packs," she informed everyone calmly. "Be on your guard."

"I had hoped they were a New World legend," Nami spluttered, paler than usual. "As if the weather here isn't unpredictable enough without throwing creatures who can control it into the mix."

The stormwyrm popped up on the starboard side this time, again swathed in cloud. No wait, this could be a new one. There were two of them now. No, three. No, six. No…a dozen? The more that popped up from out of the water, the harder it was to count them as their clouds converged, surrounding the Sunny in her own personal thunderstorm.

"This is how they take down their prey." Robin had to shout to be heard over the sudden, rushing wind, and earsplitting thunderclaps. "They target and sink ships, then consume all on board."

"Too loud," Kuina complained again, throwing her hands over her ears.

"Luffy, get her back inside!" Zoro commanded, throwing a slash into the storm. He struck one of the creatures, who let out a loud screech as it and its cloud split in two. The stormwyrm clouds around it quickly filled its place.

"But then she'll miss the fun," Luffy defended, tossing the child haplessly onto his back. "Gomu gomu no PAPOOSE!"

His stretchy arms cocooned around himself and the toddler, strapping her tightly to him in a protective layer of rubber. Her hands, which had been clasped over her ears, remained free, and she used them to clap in excitement when Luffy launched himself and his delighted rider into the air.

"LUFFY!" Zoro cried after him in alarm, but the captain had other things to attend to. Here amid rainclouds and 'wormies' as Kuina called them, he could sense multiple enemies turn their attention toward him. Lightning crackled on all sides, but if his fight with Eneru had taught him anything, it was that he had nothing to fear from this particular element.

Though he'd wrapped his arms around Kuina, he still had enough stretch room to throw a gum-gum gatling into the storm. He took down more than half of them before descending back to the deck of the ship, where Zoro waited to berate him further.

"Luffy…!" he started.

"Again, again!" Kuina cried at the same time. "Wormies go bye bye!"

Others of the crew had launched attacks at the same time Luffy had, clearing out the remaining Stormwyrms. Before their respective clouds could dissipate, twice as many took their place.

"Where are they all coming from?" Nami demanded, redirecting a lightning bolt into a small cluster of enemies. It didn't seem to affect them much, much to her dismay.

"Once they pick a target they won't stop until they've exhausted their clan," Robin replied. "Her Majesty must have passed right through a nest."

"And how big are these 'clans' exactly?" Usopp asked, launching a pop star into the mist. Huge, toothy plants munched on a few of the winged eels.

"As small as a few dozen…" Robin said, her arms crossed over her body.

A few well-placed slashes took out another couple of stormwyrms. "Oh, well, that's manageable…" Brook started as he landed in a crouch.

"…or as large as several thousand," Robin finished. She used clutch to knock three more beasts from the sky.

"SEVERAL THOUSAND?" Usopp and Brook squealed.

"Ow! It's no problem for the _Sunny,_ " Franky called from the helm. "Everybody hang on! It's time for…"

Luffy let out a whoop of excitement, binding himself and Kuina to the mast just in time.

"...Coup de BURST!"

At the cyborg's cry, a hot beam of light shot out of the back of the Sunny, launching them into the barrier of storm clouds. Black, slippery eels smacked into the ship as they went, no match for the pirate ship as it rocketed skyward.

Over a kilometer away, they plummeted downward, the mighty Adam wood of their vessel hardly flinching as they crashed into the ocean. Free at last of the eels, the Straw Hats lowered their weapons, and Luffy let his giggling charge slide off his back and onto the deck.

"I yike you, Yuffy," she said, hugging his leg.

Luffy grinned at her. "I like you too, Little Zoro. You wanna join my crew?"

Kuina's eyes grew wide. She released Luffy to clap her hands, dancing in place in excitement. "Yes! Yes!" she cried. But then she stopped suddenly, expression serious. "Mama join too?"

"That's up to her," Zoro replied when Luffy looked up at him for an answer. "But if Kuina wants to join the crew, and you're ok with it, Luffy, I don't see why she shouldn't."

"Really?" Nami asked, "You're ok with your daughter becoming a pirate?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Zoro asked. "She's an outlaw anyway. I do have one condition though, Captain…"

Luffy pouted. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this condition. Zoro's hand slamming his face into the deck only confirmed it:

"You're not allowed to be reckless with her, idiot!"


	3. Chapter 3 - Foxy

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to write this. Taking care of a toddler and a newborn has been...well, pretty all encompassing. Thanks for your patience.

* * *

Ch. 3 - Foxy

Zoro sat up and stretched. He'd been sitting at his wife's bedside for half an hour at least, allowing Chopper a lunch break. Helena hadn't stirred. Perhaps he'd been overly optimistic to hope that she'd be awake by now. Something about her situation seemed off though, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

The door creaked open and Chopper peaked into the infirmary, catching Zoro in a pensive mood.

"Any change?" the doctor asked.

Zoro shook his head.

"Were you expecting one?" he replied pointedly.

Chopper frowned. "No, I guess I just hoped for one."

"What do you mean by that?" Zoro prodded as Chopper toddled across the room to retrieve Helena's medical chart. He flipped through it pensively, scribbled something, and turned to check his patient's vitals.

He seemed to be ignoring the question. Zoro decided to push it:

"It's weird. She was at sea for, what, two weeks?"

"Two and a half at most," Chopper agreed, not looking at him. "If the papers are to be believed, that's when she was last seen at the Red Line."

"Chances are she wasn't without supplies the entire time," Zoro went on. "I'm guessing those Storm-whatsits washed some of them overboard. I'd estimate a week, week and half at most."

Chopper hummed noncommittally.

"…not long enough to put her into a coma," Zoro went on.

"She's not in a…" Chopper started in an intentionally flat tone, still gazing determinedly at his clipboard.

"She's non-responsive, Chopper," Zoro cut him off. "I tried to get her to wake up. She's out cold."

"After I expressly told you not to," Chopper chided with would-be humor, but he still wouldn't meet his gaze. "She's got a lot of gnarly injuries…" he defended.

"Nothing nearly gnarly enough for her to be like this," Zoro said. He'd definitely seen her put up with worse. Resolute, he placed a hand on Chopper's clipboard, forcing him to lower it and look at him. "Chopper, what are you hiding from me?"

"It's not that I'm hiding something, it's just that it's too soon for a diagnosis," he said, then sighed. "But then, maybe it's best you prepare yourself. The others told you what we've read in the news, right?"

Zoro nodded.

"Then you know what she's lost; what she's been through," Chopper went on. Zoro refrained from grumbling that he'd like to know a lot more. The details were all so vague. Chopper continued: "Suffering what she's suffered, I think there's a very real possibility she doesn't _want_ to wake up."

"You've determined that after half a day?" Zoro asked incredulously.

"Like I said, it's too soon for a diagnosis!" Chopper defended.

Zoro sighed and stood, shaking his head. "You've got it wrong, in any case," he said. "If you think Helena's depressed or something, you missed the fact that she fought her way here. She may have lost her kingdom, but she's got a daughter to live for."

 _And she has me,_ he noted internally, for some reason not really doubting that it would be enough. _Me and the crew. She hasn't lost everything._

"Well, you know her best," Chopper admitted, shrugging as he fiddled around, still checking Helena's vitals. He didn't seem convinced.

"If she was going to give up, she would have done so long before now," Zoro insisted. "Whatever's draining her, it's not that."

Chopper's head whipped around to look at him. "What did you say?" Zoro stared at him, but before he could respond, the doctor went on in a rush. "Something draining her? I can't believe I didn't think to check…!"

He dashed to a nearby drawer and started rummaging.

"Check what?" Zoro asked with interest, but Chopper waved a dismissive hoof in his general direction. "Does she have a parasite or something?"

"Nope. I'm not giving you a diagnosis before I'm sure this time," he insisted.

"Fine," Zoro grouched. "I know you'll take good care of her in any case."

"Shut up!" Chopper replied, grinning, "It doesn't make me feel good that you're confident in me!" He stopped his happy dance suddenly. "Anyway, you should probably go back to the kitchen. Your daughter is pretty upset."

"Those idiots! I knew I shouldn't have left her with them," Zoro growled.

* * *

Usopp had always thought he was pretty good with kids. Until that very moment that is. Zoro blew into the room just in time to see him holding a wailing Kuina.

"What did you do to her, Long-Nose?" Zoro snapped over the noise.

"I-it wasn't me!" Usopp defended loudly. "I just picked her up!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" the child caterwauled. Usopp and the rest of the crew winced.

"Anyway, ROBIN took her to pee over the side again," he went on, hoping diversion tactics could save him.

"She _what?"_ Zoro demanded, rounding on her. Diversion successful. Usopp gave himself a mental high five.

"She asked me to," Robin defended, so calmly she almost couldn't be heard over the child. "It certainly doesn't explain why she is upset now."

"You're not allowed to help with her potty training anymore," Zoro insisted with narrowed eyes while Robin shrugged. Then he turned back to Usopp. Shoot.

"Well…maybe she didn't like lunch!" Usopp deflected quickly. Sanji glared daggers at him from the sink, where he'd started on the dishes.

"Really, Long-Nose? Looks to me like she cleaned her plate."

"Did she? I saw Luffy eyeing her food," Usopp pointed out.

Luffy stuck his tongue out at Usopp, pulling down the skin under his eye just to add to the effect. "I looked but didn't touch!" He grumbled under his breath: "Sanji made sure of that…"

"Fine, then…then she doesn't like her chair!"

It was Franky's turn to glare at him. "Ow! She helped with the superrr improvements! There's no way she doesn't like it!" – It was true, the booster chair had been painted green (the princess' favorite color), embellished with daisies, hearts and glitter, and sported an extra cushy seat now.

"Careful, Usopp," Nami goaded, "The more you try to foist the blame, the guiltier you look."

"But I didn't DO anything!" he insisted.

"If I may," Brook put in, having just taken a sip from a tea cup clutched delicately in his metacarpals. "Perhaps the little Princess could use a nap?"

Kuina paused at the word and blinked at him in disbelief. Her wailing started up again a moment later. "NO!" she insisted.

Brook smiled and nodded sagely at his cup. "A nap it is!" he observed, taking another sip.

"NO!" Kuina screamed again, struggling to get free of Usopp's arms. "NO NAP!"

"No nap?" Zoro replied, aghast. "What kind of crazy person doesn't want to nap? I'll take one with you, kid. Would that help?"

Usopp might have laughed at this oh-so-generous offer if he weren't still struggling with a struggling toddler. She scowled at Zoro, angry tears in her brown eyes. For once the prospect of spending more time with her papa had no effect. "No nap," she growled, "Need Foxy!"

"Split-Head!?" Luffy spluttered, cocking his head to one side.

A horrible laugh echoed gratingly through Usopp's psyche: _Feh feh feh feh feh!_ He and the other crewmates familiar with the pirate captain Silver-Fox Foxy shivered at the thought. Even Zoro's face registered a distracted moment of disgusted confusion:

"I really don't think that's what she means," he replied to Luffy, eyebrow twitching.

Before they could question the toddler further, another crack of thunder immediately caught everyone's attention.

"Please don't tell me that means what I think it means," Usopp groaned.

Nami had already gotten to her feet. She didn't look happy. "We really need to be better at keeping a lookout," she grumbled.

It was true. The crew had gotten distracted by Helena's arrival, and with meeting Zoro's kid. They'd happily spent the morning entertaining the little girl, and marveling at how she exhibited traits from both her parents. It wasn't a good excuse to get too carefree, though, even on a ship as carefree as this one.

Out on deck with the rest of the crew, Usopp saw what he had feared. The stormwyrms had returned.

* * *

"How do they keep finding us?" Nami gasped, eyeing the living clouds gathering above the ship. "We flew over a league!"

"Ah, I may be to blame," Robin replied with a pensive air. "I thought they were tracking Queen Helena. It appears they were in fact tracking the Princess."

"…and you just had her pee over the side," Nami realized, face-palming. "Great."

"Ow, if that's the case they would have found us eventually anyway," Franky put in helpfully. "The septic tanks empty into the ocean when they're full."

"As fascinating as that is," Nami went on, drawing her climatakt. She activated it and started to wave it about purposefully. "What are we supposed to do about these things if they can track over such a long distance? Robin said there could be thousands!"

"Well, they might stop tracking us if we can steal back whatever they're using to keep her scent," Robin pointed out. "They should have an object or something of their target. Something that would have washed over the side."

Nami could feel the static in the air, could sense the stormwyrms preparing a powerful discharge. She was ready for them. Though they had intelligently pooled their resources for a single, potent lightning strike, Nami had turned her staff into the perfect lightning rod.

Jagged arms of light ran up and down her takt, making it glow. Releasing a weather egg into the air, she let the light jump harmlessly from her staff to the ball. The explosion to follow blew away the stormwyrms' cloud cover. For a brief moment, gleaming, afternoon sunlight spilled across the deck of the Thousand Sunny, illuminating the grim faces of the Straw Hats and their slimey attackers.

"FOXY!" Kuina wailed.

Nami whirled around. "Usopp, you idiot! Why'd you bring her out here again?"

"Are you kidding?! I'm not hanging out alone with a shrieking toddler!" Usopp defended, holding Kuina as far away from his person as he could manage.

"That's scarier to you than fighting monsters?" Considering Usopp's usual cowardice, this came as a surprise.

"FOXY!" Kuina shrieked again, waving a pointing finger, only this time her father echoed her.

"Foxy!" he exclaimed in understanding, and he gestured toward one of the exposed stormwyrms with a sword. "They've got her fox!"

Nami looked toward the eel creature in question, expecting to catch a flash of orange somewhere. It took her a moment to see what Zoro meant, but at last her eyes alighted on a mint green fox plushie dangling from the stormwyrm's needle-sharp teeth.

In the time it took for everyone to understand what was going on, the stormwyrms had slunk back into the water.

"Yo! We've got enough cola for one more coup de burst," Franky informed Nami helpfully. "It's already loaded. Just say the word and we can make our superrrr exit!"

"Right," Nami said with a nod. "Let's get that fox."

* * *

Zoro knew he could trust the crew with his life. He didn't feel the same about trusting them with his daughter's though. Their insistence on bringing her out on deck in the middle of a battle only exacerbated that.

"Usopp!" he barked as more living clouds converged above them, "Do I even have to say it? Get her back inside!"

"B-but," Usopp whimpered, "She bites!" He tearfully lifted an arm to showcase the angry princess hanging off of his bicep by a full set of baby teeth.

A trice of stormwyrms swooped onto the deck, trailing fog from the cloud cover in their wake. Usopp barely swept himself and Kuina aside in time to avoid getting chomped by one of them.

"What do you wanna bet these things bite harder?!" Zoro pointed out, cutting the attacking eel-monsters from the air. They flopped onto the deck in pieces. Maybe Sanji could make something of them later.

Before Usopp could respond, another stormwyrm dive-bombed him from above. With battle-honed instincts, the sniper went immediately for his slingshot. "Special Attack star..KUINA!" he cried, "Wait…NO!"

He looked up to see her flying straight toward the attacker's gaping mouth, the baby fat of her cheeks flapping in the wind. He'd loaded her into his sling by mistake!

He screamed and flailed in useless terror as she sailed up and away from him. Zoro quickly leapt into action. With swords at the ready, he kicked off of Usopp's head, smashing him nose first into the deck.

The Stormwyrm opened its jaws wide, but Zoro lopped off its head, and sliced the rest of it to smithereens. Kuina passed through its open, disembodied jaw like a ball through a sharp-toothed hula hoop.

With the stormwyrm now gone, and nothing to stop her ascent, Kuina flew straight up only to come careening back down toward the ship, passing slam dunk through the still airborn hoop jaw again.

"Ocho Fleur," Robin called. "Cradle!" She caught the flying child in a bassinet made of her arms, swaying her to reduce the impact.

Robin quickly rocked her charge away from the falling eel detritus Zoro had left in his wake. Too quickly. The princess flew from her arms, over the ship's railing, and out toward the churning sea.

"I'll get her, yo ho!" Brook called, diving overboard before anyone could stop him.

Wrapping his bony arms around Kuina, he manage to catch the little girl before they both hit the water. Clearly having the time of her life, the little princess clapped her hands in excitement as Brook started running on the ocean's surface, her tantrum long forgotten.

"You long like gampa," she informed him. "You a gampa? Where you winkles?"

"Yo ho ho!" Brook laughed. "I don't have any wrinkles because I don't have any skin, little one! But I could be a grandpa by now, oh yes! Call me Grandpa Bones!"

"Gampa Bones?" Kuina giggled, "Siwwy Ske-we-ton. I yike you."

Thus distracted, Brook didn't get too far before he started to sink. Though his light frame made running on the water's surface possible, Kuina's added weight was just enough to make the going difficult. Add to that eels popping up left and right, forcing him to check his momentum, and it was less than a minute before Brook had sunk to his waist.

Fortunately Franky managed to catch them with a, "Strong Right!" before they completely disappeared beneath the waves. With the chain of his fist wrapped around Brook, the cyborg started carefully reeling in his catch. But then an eel popped out of the water directly beneath them, jaws agape in anticipation. Franky yanked the chain, whipping Brook and Kuina through the air. The skeleton lost his grip on the Princess, and she flew skyward once again.

With a calculated look on her face, Nami performed some more of her weather voodoo, spinning her baton toward the sky like a fan. If anyone watched her closely, they could see that she moved it counter to the circles the clouds were forming around them.

A small column of air had just started to form above her when Kuina passed by overhead. Caught in the miniature tornado, the princess whirled, her limbs akimbo, until Nami gave a little squeak and stopped her twirling.

Catching Kuina in her free arm, she glared at Zoro, "I'm going to have to charge you for baby-sitting, you know."

Zoro who had chased the child from the moment she left Usopp's arms, gave her an unamused glare as he reached for his daughter. She slipped away from them both before he could get a good grip as the ship lurched and then started to rotate like a music box ballerina.

"Franky, what do you think you're doing?" Zoro yelled at the cyborg, who had just taken up his position at the helm."

"OW! It's not me! The Sunny's moving on her own!"

"It's not the Sunny," Nami said gravely. "It's the stormwyrms. They've been forming a cyclone, haven't you noticed?"

No one really had.

"I was countering it until a certain someone's little princess got in the way. Has anyone spotted that stupid fox?"

Kuina had barreled across the deck and into the captain, knocking his legs out from under him. Unfazed, Luffy stood and tossed her onto his back again for another _gomu gomu no papoose_.

At Nami's inquiry about the fox, he and Sanji both turned to glare at the same cloud. It looked oddly nervous under their collective gaze, if one could say that about a storm cloud.

"There," Captain and Cook both _observed_ , pointing at it.

It tried to blend in with the other swirling stormwyrms, but the captain didn't lose sight of the target. Springing into the air, he jumped close enough to release a gatling on the beast, even with his papoose-shortened arms. The flurry of fists quickly dispelled the stormwyrm's cloud cover, revealing it and the little green fox plush caught like a piece of unflossed broccoli in its unnervingly long teeth.

Luffy stretched both arms to grab the toy. It seemed the now bruised and battered stormwyrm might be willing to relinquish its prize, as it opened its maw in apparent acquiescence.

Actually, it was just an excellent actor. The moment Luffy's reaching hand came into range, it clamped down on it with a sickening grin, and took off.

Zoro watching in horror as Luffy gave a squeal of pain and flew through the air like the stormwyrm's kite. Oh the temptation to cut off the captain's stupid arms and let his daughter loose!

Just as Luffy managed to jump onto the creature's back, rodeo style, it dove for the water.

Fearless as always, Kuina shrieked in delight, apparently convinced it was all a game. But if it hit the water it was game over for her and the captain. The stormwyrm would most certainly dive until it drowned them, and Luffy wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

Zoro and Sanji both leapt to the rescue at once. Focused on his daughter, Zoro cut through the monster's teeth, releasing the captain so he could catch them both and toss them back on board.

Sanji had another target, however. The moment Zoro cut through the stormwyrm's teeth, the fighting cook kicked the eel's broken choppers in, nabbing the bedraggled fox plush in the process.

Franky didn't waste any time. The moment all crew members were back on board, they had seconds to grab hold before hot, white energy shot out the back of the Sunny. Still caught in the cyclone, the Sunny flew spinning through the air, incinerating the circling stormwyrms unlucky enough to be flying behind it as it spun upwards and away.

Soon they'd left the clouds behind, and through Franky's careful handling they came to land at a safe distance, discombobulated but all in one piece.

Zoro had hit the deck the moment the Sunny took off, flattening himself on top of his daughter (and thus, Luffy) to keep her from flying off. He straightened off of them now, and Luffy released her so that she stumbled dizzily upright.

Sanji approached as she got her bearings. Dropping to one knee, he held out the completely soaked fox plush.

"Here you are, Mini Moss," he said with a grin.

Darn that stupid cook. Zoro simply could not hate him in that moment. He just looked too happy to have helped Zoro's little girl.

"Foxy!" Kuina exclaimed, but before grabbing her toy, she took Sanji by the face and planted a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Tank you, my pwince," she said, all politeness and manners.

Ok, Zoro could definitely hate him again. Especially when the stupid love cook shot a triumphant, face-splitting smirk his way. Where did she get the prince idea from? Maybe because Sanji was well dressed or something.

Meanwhile, Kuina grabbed the fox and squeezed it so hard that sea water gushed out of it. The toy had definitely seen better days.

"She can't take a nap with that thing," Usopp pointed out, snatching it from her. "It's practically falling apart."

Kuina let out a blood-curdling scream. Long-Nose may as well have been torturing her. Idiot.

"What? I can fix it!" he insisted, eyes wide in alarm as he noticed Zoro bearing down on him with a hand on the hilt of his swords. "It needs to dry out first. She can't nap with this thing now!"

"Just give her the fox, Usopp!" Zoro snapped. What kind of idiot was he, taking her toy without asking?

"If I may," Brook put in suddenly, joining the cluster forming around the tantruming toddler. "I think I can get the little one to sleep."

"How…?" Zoro started, only to stop short when he noticed the violin in Brook's bony hands.

"I think I might know an Iliad lullaby or two," Brook said, winking his eye socket. And then he began to play.

Kuina conked out in seconds. The exhausted toddler didn't stand a chance against Brook's uncanny ability to project his soul into his music.

"Come on, Robin. She'll be more comfortable in our room," Nami pointed out, lifting the sleeping little girl. Despite her earlier comment about charging for babysitting, she seemed happy to cradle the child to her.

Brook stood beside Zoro as the two women went to get Kuina situated. "You are lucky to have her," the skeleton said gently. "I'm glad she is a part of the crew."

Zoro turned to look at him quizzically, brow furrowed. He wasn't sure how to respond to the nostalgic, almost wistful tone in Brook's voice, so he said nothing. It made him wonder for the first time about the skeleton's pre-pirating history.

A moment later he forgot about it completely as the door to the infirmary banged open, drawing everyone's attention. Zoro fully expected to see Chopper, waving a fist at them angrily for not warning him about a coup du burst before he could secure the patient.

The doctor was nowhere in sight. Instead, Queen Helena de Zoro stood in the door frame, eyes wide in excitement.

"So it wasn't a dream!" she exclaimed in wonder. "I actually found the Thousand Sunny!"


	4. Chapter 4 - The Dragon's Claw

A/N: I've been meaning to mention. I admittedly make Kuina act a little older than her age. I have a son who's about the same age as she is, and he can't talk nearly as well. - then again, I do have a niece who could speak full sentences at 18 months, but then, she has 8 older siblings helping her. I guess kids are all different. - I just figured Kuina would be more interesting as a character if she could contribute to the conversations. We'll just chalk it up to her having the best education as a princess. Her nursemaids were more than just warriors. If I were to develop them further, they'd probably each be a specialist in some aspect of child development.

Also, I don't know any kid that age that can hold a grudge longer than a few minutes. I think Usopp will be fine. Maybe. Like I said, Kuina is a bit mature for her age. *shrug*

* * *

Ch. 4 – The Dragon's Claw

Helena stared around her in a state of awe, mouth dropped, eyes wide as she drank in the _Thousand Sunny._ She took in the sweeping lawn of her main deck, the enormity of her sails, the sheen of her adam wood bulwarks. The surrounding sea suddenly became inviting, inspiring, a path toward adventure, not the demon Helena had battled for weeks in hopes of preserving her daughter's life.

But of course, the beauty of the ship was nothing to what she felt upon laying eyes on the crew. Most of them stood grouped on the lawn below, all of them a sight for sore eyes. Naturally one stood out more than the rest, but before she could call out to him, she noticed someone standing beside her on the middle deck. She jumped back in surprise.

"You!" she cried. "Great Olympus, you must be the shipwright, Franky! You're bigger than I pictured!"

"Ow!" Franky grinned at her in sheer delight, making her like him immediately despite his shameless attire. "And you're Zoro's Superrrr Swordbabe!" he struck a pose, exposing the star on his robotic forearms as he slammed them together. "Welcome to the Thousand Sunny, Sis!"

"Thank you! Your ship is amazing!" she gushed. It came as such a relief to match his big smile with one of her own. She turned that smile back to the crew on the lower deck.

"Zoro!" she cried, her voice tearing out of her. She didn't care how dry and sore her throat felt. She didn't care how wobbly her body was. And she certainly didn't care that a certain reindeer doctor had just followed her out of the infirmary.

Ignoring Chopper's frantic warnings, she dashed toward the nearest staircase. But honestly, who had time for stairs in a moment like this? She jumped atop the banister and slid down like a pro surfer. Moments later, she leapt from the bottom of the banister and into her hapless husband, wrapping her limbs about him like a koala on a tree as he stumbled with the impact.

"Whoa, Helena," he chortled. "Glad to see you're doing better."

"She's not!" Chopper cried. "I told you, you're on strict bedrest, your Majesty!"

As if on cue, and quite against her will, Helena's grip slackened. Because of the way she had trapped Zoro's arms at his sides, he could do nothing to keep her from sliding down, down to lay dazed at his feet, too weak to move.

"I'm so happy you found us," she burbled dizzily as Zoro bent to lift her. "S'Kuina ok?"

"She's fine," Zoro replied. "You did good, Helena."

She nestled into his chest and grinned to herself like a fool. Despite everything that had happened, she felt that in that moment she could die happy.

"So you figured out what was wrong with her, Chopper?" she heard Zoro ask as he carried her back up the stairs.

"Yes, but she woke up on her own," came the frantic response. "I didn't have time to begin any sort of treatment. Which is why she needs to stay in bed until I say so, got it?"

Helena groaned.

"That's right, you heard me," Chopper scolded. "You're going to do better at this than the last time I put you on bedrest, right?" When Helena didn't respond he prodded further, " _RIGHT?"_

Helena pretended to be asleep.

* * *

Helena woke again sometime in the early evening to Sanji chatting with Chopper through the door leading to the kitchen,"…think she'll want some dinner?" he was saying.

Her stomach growled loudly on cue.

"I think that's a yes," Sanji said. Helena hadn't turned yet to see him, but she could hear the grin in his voice.

"Make that a yes, _please_!" Helena emphasized.

"Ok, but make sure it's something light, or you'll give her a major stomach ache," Chopper conceded. "Oh, but if you can, make sure it's got a good amount of protein too."

"Something light but heavy on the protein?" Sanji replied. "Ok, I think I've got just the thing."

He disappeared, and Chopper sighed.

"Something wrong, Doctor?" Helena asked, attempting to sit up with some trouble from her leaden limbs. Chopper helped her get upright, but glared at her when she swung a leg over the side of the bed.

"What? I thought I was going to dinner!"

"Bed. Rest." Chopper retorted.

"Would it really kill me to walk from here to the table?"

Chopper sighed. "Look. This isn't going to be easy for you, but I really need you to listen to me this time because…"

A knock at the kitchen door interrupted him, and Usopp poked his head in.

"Hey, Sanji mentioned you were up," he said, smiling at her. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure, Usopp-san, what is it?" Helena asked, trying to get out of bed only to be pushed back into it by her indefatigable doctor.

"Don't make me strap you down," Chopper scolded, then turned to Usopp. "Do you really need _her_ help? I mean, we just rescued her from starvation and stuff…"

"Oh, it doesn't require much," Usopp said. "And it's for Kuina."

He entered, revealing Kuina's old fox plush, which looked surprisingly better than it had in weeks. Nothing could be done for the fur, which had matted and started falling out already, but Usopp had cleaned and patched it. He'd even sewn on a new button eye to match the one it had lost.

"Where on earth did you get that?" Helena asked, "Those stupid wormies took it. I didn't think Kuina would ever nap again!"

Usopp chuckled at her mention of the wormies. Helena smiled sheepishly:

"Sorry, that's what Kuina calls them. They're these eel dragon things…"

"Oh, don't worry, I know," Usopp replied. "We had our own run in with them. We took care of them. Anyway, about the fox. I fixed it, but she won't take it back. I figure bedtime is going to be a trick without it, so I was wondering if you could lend me a hand."

He held it out to her as he spoke, and she took it fondly. "Well, you gave him two eyes. That's got to be part of the problem," she said. She took the offending button and twisted it off. "It's supposed to be Zoro, you see."

"Zoro's a fox?" Usopp and Chopper asked, exchanging a look of bemusement.

"Well, _I_ certainly think so," Helena replied with a wink.

"That's not everything, though," Usopp went on. "See, I used some waterproofing on the outside. –it won't keep it from getting soaked or anything, but it should keep off everyday stains and stuff. Kuina says it smells funny."

Helena gave it a sniff. "I don't smell anything," she said. "Nothing unusual anyway." It had a bit of a nice, fresh laundry scent, but nothing that should have been offensive to the little girl's nose. Helena definitely couldn't detect the waterproofing.

"Yeah, me neither. But you know, they say babies know the scent of their mothers."

"They do," Chopper pitched in helpfully.

Usopp nodded, "So I figured it would be a good thing for you to hang on to this for a bit. Maybe if it smells like you, she'll want to use it again."

Helena glanced down at her unwashed body, decked out in bandages, poultices, and a hospital gown. "You sure about that? I mean, I'm not exactly a basket of roses right now."

"I can always wash it again," Usopp said with a shrug.

"I guess I've done harder things to get my baby to sleep," Helena chuckled.

Sanji appeared a moment later with some sort of amazing bone broth soup. After she had eaten, she felt stronger but still exhausted and a little queasy. Strange. She'd have thought she'd be feeling better by now. Chopper advised her to get some more rest, and she didn't protest.

Cuddling up to the little fox plush, her good cheer began to wane as reality set in. She had been trying for what felt like ages to find the _Thousand Sunny_ , specifically for Kuina's sake. Now that they were here, she knew she couldn't allow herself to get too complacent.

Perhaps it was a good thing Usopp had thought of something for Kuina to remember her by. After all, she couldn't stay here for long.

With that in mind, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"Hey, Little Princess. I fixed Foxy up even better than before. Will you take him to bed? I think he's been lonely for you."

Usopp knelt holding the fox plush toward its owner, hoping against hope that Kuina would accept his offering. It appeared he was the only one in the crew Kuina openly disliked. It was hard not to take it personally, even if she was only two.

Kuina looked up at him with her big brown eyes. He could see her weighing how much she wanted the fox back against how much she had decided to dislike him. It didn't help that it was past her bedtime, so she was extra cranky.

"I even made it not stinky anymore," Usopp added, holding it out further.

Kuina at last made a decision. Pointing a finger straight at his face, she lifted her nose into the air, looking down on him so much that she was in fact looking up. "I accept your offewing, Meanie Nose," she proclaimed as he blinked at her in shock. "You may pwace it at my feet."

Usopp wasn't sure how to react to this. Considering how down to earth Queen Helena had always been, her daughter's sudden snobbery came as a complete shock.

Luffy burst into boisterous laughter from his perch astride one of the kitchen stools. "You look just like Hammock!" he said.

Kuina's air of snobbery disappeared into an enormous grin. "Reawwy?" she asked, completely delighted.

Luffy nodded, wiping amused tears from his eyes. "Really!"

"She so cool!" Kuina exclaimed, dancing in place in her excitement.

"Who on earth are you talking about?" Usopp demanded.

Robin happened to walk by, her nose in a book. "They're talking about Boa Hancock," she translated, demonstrating yet again her uncanny ability to understand Luffy (and subsequently Kuina's) childish mind.

"Boa Hancock?" Sanji whimpered from where he had started to clear the dishes. "As in, the Empress of Maiden Isle? You got to meet her too?"

He'd directed the question at Kuina, who nodded.

"She want to be my mama," she informed the listening crew members. Her face darkened in disappointment. "But Mama say no. Mama fight her."

"Helena got in a fight with Boa Hancock?" Nami asked, intrigued. "Isn't that one of the Seven Warlords? Is Helena strong enough to hold her own against one of them?"

Zoro knelt beside his daughter. Something she had said had disturbed him more than the aforementioned fight. "Kuina," he said sternly, brow furrowed in concern. "Why would you want someone else to be your mother?"

Kuina looked askance, wary of his tone.

"Kuina?" Zoro prodded, the barest note of anger in his voice now.

"Hammock pwetty," she mumbled.

"And you said that to your Mama?" Zoro demanded, aghast. "You told her you'd rather Hancock be your mother because she's pretty?"

Kuina hung her head. She may not have understood the whole context of why he'd be angry, but she could clearly read his tone of voice.

Zoro sighed. Robin looked up from her book again, brows knit in concern. "I doubt Helena would take it too personally," she said quietly. "Boa Hancock is supposed to be the most beautiful woman in the world."

Zoro took the fox Usopp still had clutched in his hand. Scooping Kuina in one muscular arm, he handed her the plushie. "Your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world to me."

"Reawwy?" Kuina asked, clutching the fox.

"Really," he replied, touching his forehead to hers. "But that's not what makes her a good mama. She's a good mama because she did everything in her power to keep you safe. You know your mama would never let anything bad happen to you, right?"

Kuina seemed to puzzle this for a moment.

"Lot of bad things happen," she said cryptically, snuggling into his shoulder and hiding her face against the fox.

Usopp could see a shadow pass behind Zoro's face, and in that moment more than any other Usopp did not envy him his fatherhood. Potty training, protection, and plushies aside, this had to be the hardest part of caring for a young child.

He ultimately didn't attempt an answer. "Come on," he said, "Let's go say goodnight to your mama."

"Then I get story?" Kuina asked, yawning.

"I have the perfect one," Robin put in, lifting her book and wearing an uncharacteristically cheerful expression. The book had a picture of a raven on it. " _The Tell-Tale Heart."_

"Sounds cute. What's it about?" Zoro was wise enough to inquire.

"A murderer who buries his victim in his house, but is driven mad by the victim's heartbeat."

"Hard pass on that one," Zoro said, eyebrow twitching.

"Oh?" Robin seemed surprised. "Then how about _The Masque of the Red-Death_? Or perhaps _Buried Alive_?"

"Are you serious? What is wrong with that book?"

"It's a book of classic short stories," Robin retorted, her nose already buried in it again. "I read it as a child."

"That explains so much," Usopp, Zoro, and Nami said at once. Robin didn't seem to notice:

"How about _The Fall of the House of Usher?"_

"Robin," Zoro said flatly. "You're not allowed to help with bedtime stories either."

"You sure about that?" Nami asked, pointing at the child. "It looks like her story already worked."

Kuina had passed out asleep on Zoro's shoulder.

* * *

 _Lot of bad things happen._

Lying in his bunk that night, Zoro contemplated what his daughter had said. He and his crewmates were no strangers to sorrow, not even as children. And yet his heart ached for his daughter, angrier at the world for her childhood traumas than for his own.

He wanted to avenge her, though a motivation like that would cloud his swordsmanship, he knew. Anyway, who would he avenge her against? Mihawk and the other shichibukai? The entire Navy?

It didn't matter. If anyone who had hurt her crossed his path, they wouldn't be long for this world, that much was clear.

Dozing on this thought, Zoro startled awake at the door to the men's dormitory swinging open. Nami stood framed in the doorway, clutching Kuina by the hand.

"She woke up asking for you," Nami grumped, rubbing her eyes drearily. "Storm's coming. If she sleeps here, she stays here the rest of the night. It won't be safe on deck."

Zoro glanced at his small bunk. There wasn't much room for both himself and the toddler. He was about to say as much, but then Kuina sniffled loudly.

They would just have to make do. "Bring 'er here," he mumbled groggily.

Nami flopped the little girl on his chest, and soon disappeared to get her beauty sleep.

"You would probably have been more comfortable in Nami and Robin's big bed," Zoro informed her as he pulled his blanket over the both of them. She nuzzled into him, still clutching Foxy of course.

"Want Papa," she said stubbornly.

He yawned. "Ok, well, try to get some sleep, Kid."

"Ok, Papa. I yuv you."

Keenly aware of the other guys listening in on this conversation, Zoro felt his cheeks flush a bit. "I love you too, kid," he said as quietly as he could.

"Aw," he heard Sanji utter under his breath. Stupid Curly-Brows.

Just as Zoro had started to doze off again, Kuina decided that it was the perfect time to make conversation.

"Papa," she said, sounding entirely too awake. "You yike my dwess?"

"Sure kid, it's really pretty," he yawned. Truth be told he hadn't paid much attention to it. It was kind of grey and tattered, made of some kind of fancy, silky fabric. Maybe it had sported some lace at some point but this had been torn to bits.

"I get mawwied," she said.

"Not til you're thirty, kid."

"I mawwy big, uggie bubble man," she continued.

"Wouldn't you want to marry a prince instead?" Sanji asked, butting into the conversation.

"Or perhaps a swordsman?" Brook added, "Like your papa?"

Luffy's head appeared over the side of the bunk above Zoro's. "Or a pirate?" he grinned.

"I no wan to mawwy bubble man. He mean."

Zoro felt his stomach drop. "Wait, are you talking about a real person?"

"He make my back ouch."

Zoro pressed his hand against her back and felt her cringe. There was a strange, raised bump beneath the fabric.

"I wear heavy neckwace and pwetty dwess."

Zoro had pushed himself upright by now. His male crewmates (aside from Franky, who was at the helm, and Chopper, who was taking care of Helena) all started to stir as well, the concern palpable in the room.

"Zoro, you don't think…" Usopp started.

Mouth set in a grim line, Zoro hugged his daughter to him and slowly unzipped the back of her dress. He saw loose and dirty bandages, so loose he managed to push them aside while his mates watched in dread. Beneath the bandages was a burn mark, no, a brand. – a brand like a claw. Crumbling. Raw. A few weeks old.

A palpable shudder of anger passed through the crew, and not just the ones in the male dormitory. So intense was their rage that their nakama across the ship, from Franky at the helm to Nami and Robin in their room, to Chopper and Helena in the infirmary, all felt it, inexplicably linked, perhaps by haki, perhaps by something deeper. Every fish within a mile of the ship fled in sudden fear.

Kuina had been marked by a Celestial Dragon.


	5. Chapter 5 - Cipher Pol

A/N: Trying to get back into a writing rhythm again. Both my kids are sleeping through the night now, which means I get a little time to myself in the evenings now. Woot.

* * *

Ch. 5 – Cipher Pol

Helena sat up in her infirmary bed, feeling a foreboding that had nothing to do with the storm rising outside. As soon as she sat upright, Chopper startled awake from where he'd dozed off at his desk.

"Who the-, what the-!" he stammered out as he gained a grip on consciousness. "What's happening?"

Before Helena could respond, the door from the kitchen slammed open, jolting Chopper out of his chair completely.

"Helena," Zoro growled. He stood there dripping wet from the storm, clutching a bundled blanket to his chest. His eye flashed dangerously toward her.

She could see the others behind him in the kitchen. Sanji, Brook, Usopp, Luffy, all drenched and wearing uncharacteristically sober expressions. The captain had a look of blood-wrath to him, even.

Chopper intercepted Zoro before he could take another step into the room. "I told you she needs her rest…!"

Zoro just looked him pointedly in the eye and dropped the blanket he'd used to protect Kuina from the wind and storm. With the back of her dress still hanging open, her brand became instantly, inescapably visible.

Chopper gasped, losing all ability to form a retort.

"You said she was fine," Zoro said, his voice dangerously low and quiet as he addressed the doctor. "You didn't look at her for more than a second."

Chopper's shocked expression sobered. He must have realized a defense was pointless. "Sit her here," he said, indicating a chair. "That's an old wound at this point, but there may be something I can do to help reduce the scarring, if only a little."

"No, put her here," Helena said, swinging her legs out of the bed. "She needs it more than I do."

"You think?" Zoro growled, and Helena shot him a look.

"I thought she had already been tended to," she replied to his accusatory glare, "You said she was fine."

"And you said you would protect her!" Zoro snapped back.

Helena did not drop her gaze, though guilt shot through her afresh. She knew she deserved every word of censure he had in store, however publicly he meant to give them, and she would accept his anger with the dignity she owed him.

"I trusted her with you," he went on. He didn't shout. His wrath made his voice go even softer. "How could you let this happen?"

Kuina started to cry loudly. She had never heard her parents argue.

"Chopper, please tend to her," Helena murmured. "Zoro, everyone, I will tell you everything. But I would like to do it with some dignity, sitting upright and away from this infernal bed. Clothes would be nice as well."

"You're not walking anywhere," Chopper cut in.

"But-!" Zoro and Helena protested at once.

The doctor rounded on them, fresh bandages and an antiseptic for Kuina in hand. "If you're leaving this room, then Zoro is going to carry you everywhere, got it? No walking. No exertion of any kind."

Zoro and Helena exchanged glances. She could see his disgust, looking at her. – Like he was completely ashamed of her, as well he should be. Chopper may as well have asked him to carry the man who had wounded Kuina.

The little doctor didn't care. Putting the bandages and medicine on a table, ready for use, he grew to his larger form and attempted to gently ease Kuina from her father.

She clutched him tighter "Papa mad?" she asked. "I do somefing bad?"

Zoro's expression softened, and he turned his gaze from his wife. "No," he replied, embracing the child, careful not to touch the brand. He pulled away and looked her in the eyes. "You have been very brave. Can you be brave for Dr. Chopper now too? He's going to look at your back."

Kuina nodded, rubbing tears away with her little fists. She gave him her bravest smile, and Zoro ruffled her hair.

"That's my girl," he said.

He seated her on the bed beside her mother. Apparently unable to look Helena in the face now, he picked her up without meeting her gaze.

"Robin should have clothes about your size," Chopper babbled, indifferent to the discomfort the quarreling couple felt. "Well, go on then," he shooed, "Fill me in later. I want to know what happened too."

* * *

Dressed in some of Robin's more conservative attire, Helena sipped a mug of hot cider, surrounded by all the Straw Hats but Chopper. They had chosen to hold this particular meeting in the Aquarium room for comfort. Rain continued to pour outside, a surprisingly calming sound, particularly as it rippled on the surface of the fish tank. Oddly enough, though perhaps perfectly in keeping with the unpredictable nature of the New World, there was almost no wind or wave, which meant Franky could join them.

By the calming blue light of the Aquarium, Helena gazed over her new comrades' faces. They all clutched their own mugs, eyes alert, and none complaining about having been awoken in the middle of the night. The others, though irate on Kuina's behalf, didn't look at her with the same carefully reined in anger as Zoro did. His sympathy toward her plight had evaporated in light of her failure to keep Kuina safe. She preferred his quiet anger to their sympathy, though. She deserved his wrath after all.

Where to begin?

"I know you're all concerned about what happened to Kuina," she started, truly touched that they all seemed to care about her daughter's well-being to such an extent. Luffy cracked his knuckles, even as she spoke. "But I think to really understand, we may need to go further back, to what happened to Ilium itself. It could take a while."

"We've got a while," Franky put in. "The Sunny's caught in a Calm of some kind. No current. No wind. We won't be moving til this weather phenomenon passes."

"Never had a 'Calm' before," Nami grumbled.

Franky gave her a reassuring smile, "Your superrr prediction was still right," he reminded her, "It's raining, just not in a dangerous throw-you-overboard kind of way."

"If we've got a while, then we'll go back to the beginning," Helena said, brow furrowing pensively, "To when I returned to Ilium after dropping Zoro off at the archipelago…"

"You were at the archipelago?" Usopp cried, giving voice to everyone's look of surprise.

"None of you saw me?" Helena asked. "I saw all of you! From a distance of course. But Zoro didn't mention we were there?"

"He failed to mention he had a daughter too," Sanji pointed out, and the others chuckled.

"Ever the strong silent type," Helena teased, daring to glance his way and then wishing she hadn't.

"I wasn't supposed to talk about Ilium or its Queen, remember?" he retorted sharply.

His quiet but angry input effectively darkened the mood. The crew's titters fell silent. –It was just as well, this wasn't the type of story for titters and laughter. Honestly, if Helena could get by without having to relive it she would, but they needed to know everything, particularly if they were to protect Kuina in the future.

She cleared her throat.

"When I returned home, it was to an unexpected homecoming celebration…"

* * *

"Another party?" Helena groused as her designer sewed her into her formal attire. "Diddy, we just had the City of Dionysus Festival, and a Parade, and Funeral Games! Why on earth would we need another party?"

"Nysa insisted, your father agreed," Diddy replied with a shrug. "It's a good way to show you weren't just off on a vacation, right? I heard something about solidifying your union with Straw Hat pirates."

The ninety-year-old fashionista had thankfully ditched her usual false mustache and today sported a pair of ridiculously holey skinny jeans and a flannel shirt. Despite the immodest number of holes in said jeans, Helena envied her mobility:

"Diddy, you and I have had many a chat about how important it is for me to be able to move in my dresses…" the queen started.

The current concoction was a lot sleeker than the Queen was used to. It had long sleeves and covered her collar, but the golden fabric was skin tight. Not only did it feel pretty immodest, the lack of breathing room restricted her arm movements. Its A-line shape also hugged her hips down past her knees, making the use of foot swords, or really any practical sword stance, impossible.

Diddy seemed to blink at the sequined concoction in surprise, having just finished sewing Helena in. "Oh dear," she said. "I'm sorry, I guess I've just been a bit distracted lately…I don't suppose you heard?"

"About Agamemnon?" Helena prodded, sobering. How could she have forgotten that Diddy was Agamemnon's grandmother? "Yes, I did. Almost as soon as I disembarked actually. I'm so sorry, Diddy. They found him this morning, right?"

Diddy sniffed. "Dead in his own home, no one knows how it happened! – an aneurism the police suspect. Ha!" she seemed the picture of indignance. "Thankfully they haven't written off foul play. I'm sure the autopsy will provide more insight."

"He was wealthy and powerful," Helena said with a nod, "I wouldn't be surprised if he had a few enemies. He was a genuine patriot, though. His passing is a great loss to Ilium."

Helena wasn't just saying it to be nice. She felt his loss keenly. Agamemnon was the most powerful business man in Ilium, and had always supported her and her father unquestioningly. Though she wouldn't say that he was a close personal friend, he was undoubtedly one of her more trustworthy allies.

"Don't worry about the dress, Diddy," Helena reassured her. "It's lovely. I'll manage somehow. Bless you for even coming in to work today."

She didn't see, didn't even think to look for the sinister gleam in Diddy's eyes as the woman wiped away a crocodile tear. She had been Head Seamstress in the palace for decades, after all. – had made gowns for the last queen, and the queen before that!

"It's good to be busy," she said simply.

Nysa the party planner poked her head in, her purple hair gelled into its usual pointed swirl atop her head. She took a quick look at the queen, then nodded in approval. "Right on schedule," she said, to the point as always. "Band is set up. Guests on their way."

"You booked the group from _Homer's_ right?" Helena asked hopefully.

" _Virgil's_ ," Nysa corrected, noting something on a clipboard.

Ah, yes. Homer's pub had burned down in the recent battle. The owner himself had been killed, but his brother-in-law, Virgil, had taken in the band that had once made _Homer's_ into Helena's favorite place to dine.

"Glad they could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it," Nysa said.

Of course, her favorite singers would never turn down a request from the Queen. Helena soon managed to greet them herself, before many of the guests had arrived. She greeted a few of the members without formality, having known many of them since her childhood.

"Orpheus!" Helena called to their lead tenor. He didn't turn from tuning his guitar until she called out to him a few more times. The chronically sleepy man seemed sleepier than usual today. Either that or something was off. "Are you alright?"

He forced a smile at her. "Oh, yes, sorry your Majesty. I was just a little distracted."

Not just distracted. He seemed sad. He had the telltale look of freshly shed tears under his eyes.

Perhaps it was best not to press it. "Where is Sirena today?" she asked, speaking of Orpheus' wife, and the band's lead female voice.

"Sir-ena?" his voice cracked. "Oh, she wasn't feeling well. She couldn't make it."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You'll tell her she was missed, won't you?"

He grunted and bowed his head back toward his guitar.

Puzzled, Helena made to turn away but another band member greeted her:

"Did you hear, Majesty? Robertus and Gloriadne are back in town."

Helena smiled at mention of her two court dance masters. They had been abroad for over two years, picking up the latest dance moves. The band knew them well, as they had taught lessons out of Homer's old pub. They'd been extended the invitation to act as dance masters precisely because Helena had met and learned from them there first. "Yes, they arrived shortly after I did. I haven't seen them yet, though."

Orpheus coughed and muttered something under his breath while his bandmate rambled a bit about the dancers. Helena hadn't quite caught what Orpheus said, but she thought she'd heard the word "coward" somewhere in there. Before she could call him out, she heard a voice that made her sigh inwardly.

"There you are, mon."

Helena turned to greet Calypso Blue, forcing a smile. "Mr. Calypso, I didn't see you there."

Actually she had. She'd purposely gone to greet the band first. She knew Calypso meant well, and that he was an ally – she needed him here to train her in haki. Zoro himself had suggested it! – but if Calypso started flirting again she would probably slug him.

"You look amazing as always, 'Elena," he said, giving her the once over from her open-toed high-heel shoes (another oversight of Diddy's) to her chains of office, to the top of her corona. She cursed Diddy and her stupid, fashionable, completely restrictive dress design. A proper slugging was out of the question. "How was the trip with that pirate of yours?"

Well, if she couldn't hit him physically, she could always hit him another way: "It was wonderful," she said with genuine, if a bit overstated enthusiasm, "It was basically the _honeymoon_ we never got to have."

"Oh, glad to hear it mon," Calypso went on, unfazed. "After all, you won't be able to see him again for a while." His confident grin made her want to puke.

"Well, as they say, distance makes the heart grow fon…" she stopped short as a squat man walked by. "What in Hades is that man doing here?"

By "that man" she meant none other than Monte Bags. He swung his umbrella around one arm, blowing bubbles from a bubble pipe as though he hadn't a care in the world. Helena swiftly abandoned Calypso:

"Bags!" she barked, marching up to him. "You've got some nerve showing up here. I seem to recall banishing you on threat of _execution."_

Bags turned to her, a look of mock surprise on his face. "Banished? Me?" he asked, eyes wide in mock surprise. "As I recall, you banished any and all world government officials. But you see, I am retired now, like it's my job. - A forced retirement, really, but you can't expect them to keep me on after what happened, can you? That's the second war we've had with Ilium on my watch."

Helena looked at him, fingers itching to grab at one of the many swords strapped to her person. "How lamentable for you," she seethed unsympathetically. "Fired from both sides."

"Lamentable indeed," Bags agreed obtusely. "Now that I'm free of my title as Ilium's World Government Liaison, I thought I'd come and apologize for my failings, like it's my job. It's clear that despite over thirty years of service, I never was the right man for the job. I'm sorry I wasn't able to prevent Ilium's relationship with the World Government from coming to such a frightful end. It's truly a shame."

Helena stared at him, her jaw frozen, unable to retort. Was it just her imagination, or did he sound almost sincere?

"I know I've been a bit of a cad in the past, like it's my job, but I do hold a great deal of respect for Ilium and her culture. This was my home away from home after all," Bags replied to her shocked expression. "Can we call it pax, your Majesty? I'd hate to leave on such a bad note."

He held out a hand to her expectantly.

The etiquette training that had been drilled into her since birth made her almost lift her hand, but the hurt ran too deeply for that. Meeting his gaze, she gave him a withering look:

"Bags, you're not welcome here," she told him. "Ilium was never your home."

* * *

"Can we cut the fluff?" Zoro demanded, stopping Helena mid-story. "What does this little soiree of yours have to do with anything?"

Helena met his hard gaze, and decided this pause was a good time to take a deep drink of her cider. It tasted amazing. She let the flavor distract her for a moment as the rest of the Straw Hats murmured to one another, agreeing with Zoro.

"It is everything," she said calmly at last. "For you see, just about every person I have mentioned had a hand in Ilium's downfall."

Zoro furrowed his brow. "A dress-maker, a party-planner, a singer? One of your idiot suitors?" By that Helena took him to mean Calypso. "What would any of them have to do with…?"

Robin spilled her own mug of cider onto the floor, eyes wide in apparent understanding. Helena went on as though nothing had happened:

"Because they were each elite undercover agents of the World Government's secret service," she said calmly. "You may not have heard of them. They go by the name of…"

"Cipher Pol," Robin finished for her darkly.

Helena stared as more furious energy charged the room. Franky noticeably gritted his teeth, Luffy's blood-wrathed gaze grew, if possible, more alarming. Zoro's anger softened, however:

"I should have seen it," he chided himself.

Helena looked over at him, seated right beside her on the couch despite it all. He hadn't touched his cider. "I knew most of those people my whole life," she reminded him. "So did my father. If we couldn't spot them, how could you?"

"Because I knew what to look for," he seethed. "Dammit, Calypso was so obvious about it too. –always teasing you when you asked where he'd come from."

"That's how they work, Zoro," Nami reminded him. "Hidden in plain sight."

"Who is this Calypso guy, anyway?" Sanji asked. He'd already retrieved a towel to wipe up Robin's mess.

"That's a long story," Helena said. "He was…a friend, at first anyway, and then…"

"…then a jerk who tried to get Helena to be his lover," Zoro added when she trailed off.

Sanji's curly brow lifted as he caught the way Helena flushed in embarrassment. "Oh?" the Love Cook observed from where he knelt on the floor, cleaning. "Am I wrong in surmising that it almost worked?"

"…everyone thought Zoro was dead," Helena defended uncomfortably. "But no, I don't think he ever would have succeeded. He was kind of a sleaze like y…" she clapped her hands over her mouth. "I mean…!"

Sanji gave her a wounded look. Zoro snorted, but he tried to hide it by finally taking a swig of cider. So he didn't hate her completely then, thank the gods.

"You are much more respectful," Helena insisted to Sanji diplomatically. "And I am sure you know how to take 'no' for an answer."

"Of course I do!" Sanji asserted.

"This Calypso," Robin put in, taking a second towel from Sanji before he could attempt to towel her off with it. She dabbed spilt cider from her lap as she spoke, "His given name isn't Blue is it?"

"It is."

Robin looked up at her, face taught. "Oh dear," she said in complete understanding.

Helena sighed and nodded. 'Oh dear,' was an understatement.

"Robin, you've heard of him?" Usopp asked.

"I've never met him, but he has a cruel reputation," Robin supplied as Sanji handed her a newly filled mug. "I get the feeling we are about to find out why."

Helena nodded. "I mentioned Agamemnon's passing. It was foul play, but not in a way I ever could have expected," she said. "He wasn't killed by someone who was jealous of his wealth or power. He was murdered by his own grandmother, and for no reason other than that Calypso ordered it."

"Why?" Usopp asked. "I mean, you mentioned his grandmother was Cipher Pol, but why order the death of their families? What purpose would that even serve?"

"Why indeed," Helena sighed. "Ciphor Pole had been hiding in my country for centuries now. These agents were under such deep cover that many had formed families. Calypso had them kill them to tie up loose ends. I presume it was also to weed out any agents who might hesitate in the takeover. Diddy? She was the only one who didn't hesitate."

"A ninety-year-old woman?" Usopp asked.

"A ninety-year-old assassin," Helena corrected. "She had the most family, and didn't seem to mind killing them all. Agamemnon was just the first one we found. She's as bad as Calypso, and almost as dangerous. Don't underestimate her because of her age."

"You're telling us this so we can be prepared," Zoro observed. Absorbed now in her tale, he didn't look angry anymore, just focused on the task at hand. Perhaps her inadvertent jab at Sanji had mollified him just enough for him to put his disappointment in her aside for the time being. "They're still out there, and are probably after you and Kuina, is that it?"

Helena nodded.

"Then tell us," Zoro said, "What exactly are we up against?"


	6. Chapter 6 - Don't Look Back

A/N: A word from the wise. Never ever ever ever ever brag that your baby sleeps through the night. ...totally jinxed it. He hasn't been sleeping well at all of late, and now he's got croup. Needless to say, I haven't had much time or energy to write. I was getting hopeful I'd get back into my weekly update routine, too!

So I mentioned to some of you in private responses that I didn't expect this story to get much darker than what had happened to Kuina. Then I read this chapter to my husband and he told me it was a little too dark for him. So I guess it's going to be a bit darker overall, especially as I explain what happened to Ilium. After all, it has to be pretty bad if it means the annihilation of a whole country. It's all very...Greek Tragedy, which is fitting, I feel. Anyway, have you read that stuff? I mean, gouging one's eyes out, murdering one's children and feeding them to one's partner out of vengeance, self-immolation, wearing a cloak that pulls your guts out. Guys. The Ancient Greeks were as dark as it gets! (None of that stuff will be happening in this story, PS.)

Essentially this story was born because I asked myself a question: what would it take for Helena to join the Straw Hats? - a reviewer of Iliad pointed out that it would mean the fall of Ilium, and I realized that was 100% accurate. As it fit with the story of The Aeneid, I entertained the notion, and started asking what it would take for Ilium to fall.

Well, my friends. This is what it would take. -and we're just getting started.

I apologize that there aren't any of our favorite characters in this. The focus of this chapter is answering Zoro's question: what exactly are we up against?

Sociopaths, Zoro. Friggin' Sociopaths. But do you expect any different from Cipher Pol? ...also, how long were you guys going to let me keep misspelling Cipher Pol, eh? I just barely caught that this chapter...

* * *

Ch. 6 – Don't Look Back

The night before Queen Helena de Zoro arrived home from her journey, the dressmaker Diddy de Daedalus had her work cut out for her. Not only did she have a new dress to make, she had a family to assassinate.

Oh, not that Calypso had given the order yet. She just knew it was coming, could see the writing on the wall. Finally, after decades, the work she had given her life for would come into fruition.

Yes, Ilium was without a doubt a dangerous country; she had witnessed enough of the god powers in her lifetime to confirm that. Anyway, people who thought that bedsheets could serve as actual clothing clearly lacked the common sense to use such powers safely or effectively. They needed to be brought down, and said powers put into the hands of the more capable (and fashion savvy) government.

She held no love for the queen or her predecessors. Helena had always been especially troublesome to the designer, what with her constant whining. It was a supreme pleasure that of all the sovereign rulers Diddy had outlived, Helena would be the last.

To the surprise of even her comrades, she held no real love for her own family either. All had been tools in her toolbelt; a fashionable accessory to her façade, the ultimate disguise. Her late husband had been a man with business connections, and through him she bore children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren with both creative talent and the wealth to pursue it. They had been an amusing pastime, but they had now gone out of style.

In order for her to best serve her part in the plan, she needed to distract Queen Helena enough not to notice that the dress she'd been sewn into was a veritable death trap. What better distraction than a death in Diddy's own family? She could then use the Queen's empathy against her. She would kill off one tonight, and take care of the rest whenever Calypso gave the go ahead.

She couldn't wait to get started.

When Agamemnon opened his door to her, she greeted him jovially with a kiss on the cheek. She felt no guilt breaking bread with him for supper that night. He showed her to the guest room, inviting her to stay rather than drag her old bones all the way back to the palace. Ha! As if anyone looking at her doubted she could handle such a journey! – A healthy body was always in fashion!

But it was as she had planned. When he had fallen asleep, she crept into his room, retrieved a long, sturdy sewing needle from her belt, and shoved it into his ear without the least hesitation. He died without a sound.

On her way back to her room, she unfortunately ran into Agamemnon's daughter, Raqueline. The talented sea prism artisan wore her work apron over her nightgown.

"Mama Diddy?" Raqueline called. "I didn't know you were staying over tonight! What are you doing up so la…Mama Diddy, why is there blood on your hand? Are you hurt?"

Diddy sighed inwardly. Of all the family members to find her red-handed, it had to be the one she wasn't planning on killing.

"Fine, dear. Just a little wound caused by a needle," she said. "Are you off to bed?"

"No, I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd go down to my workshop and get some stuff done," she said.

"Would you mind if I join you?" Diddy asked, the very picture of innocent curiosity. "It's always a pleasure to see what you're working on."

"Sure, come on down," Raqueline replied with a genuine smile. The girl was generally pretty twitchy and nervous, but not around her great grandmother. No, Mama Diddy had always been a welcome source of constructive feedback with her jewelry making. Not that she needed Diddy's help anymore; the girl had a well-trained eye now. She was without a doubt the best sea prism craftsman of her time.

Diddy again sighed inwardly as she followed Raqueline down a flight of stairs within Agamemnon's newly repaired mansion. One thing was for certain; after today, Raqueline wouldn't be asking for Diddy's help with anything ever again.

* * *

Bright and early the following morning, Monte Bags sat at the bar in _Virgil's_ , taking stock of his troops like it was his job. As the official handler for Cipher Pol 4, tonight was a big night for him. He'd been strategizing Ilium's takedown for over three decades now, and with his understanding of the country and its culture, he was confident that his would be the group to finally succeed.

Calypso Blue's experience and cruelty made him the ideal Head Agent for a group as splintered as Cipher Pol 4. Bags was dealing with long time sleeper agents of various ages and skills, but Blue knew just how to weed out the weak. He had Bags' backing 100%, and even had permission to give orders under the guise that they had come from up top.

Annihilation of the agents' families had been one such order.

At first Bags had had his reservations about it as it seemed unnecessarily cruel, but ultimately he had to admit it was rather effective. For instance, he now knew that they undoubtedly had Diddy's loyalty based on her actions last night. Calypso had accused her of jumping the gun, but she had assured them all that Agamemnon's death would prove useful to her in her assignment to immobilize the queen. At least Bags had convinced her to immobilize, not assassinate Helena. They weren't going to make Regent's mistake. - they needed to take down the royal family simultaneously.

Bags wasn't particularly worried about Nysa either. The party planner, though assigned to Ilium just a little longer than he had, had very wisely chosen not to form a family. She had planned the Queen's homecoming slaughter to perfection. Her organizational skills had proven invaluable, as had her hidden Hammer Hammer power. Through her they'd be able to hide one of their more interesting agents until the last possible moment.

Regrettably, Bags had lost a couple of agents in recent years. The old Head of Palace Security had made getting agents appointed under the royal family's nose relatively painless. Unfortunately, he had been killed by that fool Troy, and eventually replaced with Paris du Priam, a man unquestioningly loyal to the Queen, and terrifyingly good at snooping. They had managed to avoid his detection but barely.

The other agent he had lost had gone quite recently. Homer had been helpful collecting intel on the royal family, particularly Helena, and had also made it possible for them to get agents close to the her outside of the palace. – unfortunately, Homer had also formed a family, and grown attached to the Princess he'd watched grow into a Queen. He'd realized that he would have to mobilize when Ilium started winning its battle against Regent. Rather than betray Ilium or the World Government, to whom he still felt a sense of loyalty, he'd walked into the line of fire.

Bags didn't mourn him too much. – he'd aged far worse than Diddy had, had even lost his eyesight completely in the past year or so. Anyway, he had served his purpose.

Then there was that idiot musician, Orpheus. He'd only come to Ilium within the last 5 years, but he had as good as admitted to Calypso that he'd chosen a post in Ilium thinking he would never have to mobilize. He might prove problematic, but their numbers were low; Bags hated to admit it, but they needed him.

Just as he had finished his mental checklist, an agent who had gone AWOL suddenly, dramatically threw open the door to _Virgil's_. Striking a flamenco pose, the cerulean-haired agent wore a dazzling grin and a lavender chiton, tied to look like a latin dancing dress.

"You see, Amor!" she called to someone behind her, "I told you _Virgil's_ was just as nice as _Homer's_!"

Then she clapped eyes on Bags, and her smile vanished.

"You," she breathed, eyes narrowed.

Bags quickly regained his composure. "Oh. You came back just in time, like it's your job. I'd heard you and your little family had skipped town."

"Not skipped. I was working," Gloriadne de Robertus muttered peevishly, then seemed to realize she should pretend she didn't know him as anything other than the World Government Liaison. "I mean, what are you talking about? Why are you even here? I thought I'd heard that the Queen banished all world government officials from Ilium!"

"Who are you talking to, Amorcita?"

Gloriadne's clueless husband came into view, eyeing Bags with confusion.

"We should probably report him," he put in.

"Tonight's the night, Gloriadne," Bags said, ignoring him and getting to his feet. "You are to eliminate any and all liabilities," his eyes flickered to her husband, "like it's your job. Do you understand?"

She took a step back, an arm sneaking back protectively over her husband.

At that moment, Gloriadne's son, probably around two years old, toddled into view, giggling. He was a perfect blend of Gloriadne and her husband – round face, laughing eyes, fine, violet hair that stuck up like a coxcomb.

"Oh dear," Bags said, eyeing him, then noticing an infant carrier on Robertus' back. A chubby baby burbled, just out of sight. Bags turned his gaze back to Gloriadne. "I am so sorry," he said.

The toddler looked at Bags with big blue eyes. A moment later he was patting Bags' tummy.

"Baby?" he asked innocently.

Bags chuckled. "No, there's no baby in there," he replied. Such a shame. He was a sweet child.

Gloriadne grabbed her son by the hand and pulled him forcibly away. "Stay away from him, Janus!" she reproached.

Bags looked at her with real sympathy. "Will you need help?" he asked quietly as she dragged the child behind her. "We can enlist someone else to do it."

Gloriadne's face turned white. She straightened up, still clutching her son's little hand as he struggled to get away. "No," she replied as staidly as she could manage. "I…I can take care of it."

"Good," he went on, though he eyed her dubiously. "Come find me once you're done. I'll fill you in on the plan."

* * *

The moment Bags closed the door, Gloriadne turned sharply to her husband, her entire frame trembling.

"What was that all about?" Robertus asked nervously as their son broke free from them and started stumbling around the empty pub in hyperactive circles. "Amorcita, are you alright?"

"You need to go, now," she insisted in a harsh whisper. "Take Janus and Lachoneus and leave the country. Don't look back."

"Why would I…?"

"Just listen to me. You need to leave!"

"What about you?" Robertus demanded.

"I need to stay and warn the Queen…!"

A laugh reverberated from a nearby staircase. "Oh ho ho! Gloriadne, Gloriadne, Gloriadne," a voice tutted, "I had a feeling you'd go turncoat, mon. But what can one expect from a young mother?"

Calypso Blue swaggered into view, one hand resting casually on the sheaths of his machetes. He smiled his all too charming smile at her, pristine white teeth all the whiter against his swarthy skin.

"I'll take care of it, Blue," Bags put in, coming in from the front door.

Gloriadne bowed her head, and cursed under her breath. Of course he hadn't really left! They were cornered now. "Bags," she seethed through gritted teeth. "This is your fault."

"I didn't come up with the extermination order," he replied, shrugging his fat shoulders. "I only gave it my stamp of approval like it's my job."

"Extermination?" Robertus demanded.

"That's not what I meant," Gloriadne insisted. She backed her family into the pub itself, putting herself between them and the two Cipher Pol agents. "You're the one who told me to pursue Robertus in the first place."

She could feel Robertus' staring at the back of her head. "What…?" he gasped.

"A man, a dancer no less, holding on to the Alpha Omega Fruit to share with his future bride," Gloriadne went on. "A perfect cover, and a perfect chance to gain a powerful devil fruit. You didn't take into account one thing though."

"Oh?" Bags asked, eyebrows raised.

"That I would actually fall in love with him," she turned and gave her husband a soft look, but only for a split second. She couldn't afford to take her eyes off of the enemy for longer than that.

"You mistake me, my dear," Bags replied, puffing on his bubble pipe. "While, yes, there were strategic reasons for me to play matchmaker, it doesn't follow that I didn't have your happiness in mind. If one must be undercover for this long, she may as well enjoy herself like it's her job."

"That's sick," Gloriadne growled.

Bags shrugged. "I don't see it that way."

"Don't blame him for your inability to separate work and pleasure, mon," Calypso put in.

"You mean, I shouldn't blame him for the fact that I'm not a sociopath like you."

"That IS what all your training was meant to do," Calypso grumbled, rolling his eyes for good measure. "Just like many of our agents, you thought this day would never come. You let yourself go soft, mon. I expect you haven't been keeping up on your training either."

"Oh no, you're wrong there," Gloriadne said softly. "You see, my husband and I didn't just leave to pick up new dance moves."

After Troy's attack, Gloriadne had realized that she needed to be stronger, but by then her loyalty to Cipher Pol had already slipped. She had honestly hoped she would never have to tell anyone what she was. Not her husband, or her sons – not even her friend the Queen. No, she had convinced her husband to train with her on the premise of better serving the crown. In reality it was in case something like this happened.

She let off a sudden glow, blinding Bags and Calypso as though she had the Glimmer Glimmer fruit. Knowing she still wasn't strong enough to fight either of them, she smashed through the nearest exit; a window. She did so just as her husband grabbed their son, and the light and color suddenly drained from the man, the boy, and the baby strapped to the man's back, turning them into dark, inky silhouettes. They disappeared into a shadow.

* * *

"So they've awakened a new power within their devil fruits," Bags chortled. "Such a useful thing, to be able to use any of the past powers they've encountered. It's a real pity Gloriadne won't be helping us tonight."

"But we can't let them get away, mon," Calypso pointed out, though he said it calmly. He must have realized that Bags' own lack of panic meant he had things under control.

"Don't worry, they won't get far," Bags replied. "I did extensive research on their devil fruits back when I suggest Gloriadne vie for one. A power like that has a limit. - Let me take care of them, Blue. We still have one more agent to contact; I suggest you get on it, like it's your job. Considering he doesn't have children, I hope he won't give you as much trouble."

Calypso grinned. "Oh, Orpheus isn't quite as brave as Gloriadne, mon," he pointed out. "I don't think he'll be as difficult to convince."

"Very good," Bag said, blowing bubbles from his pipe. He waddled to the door, pushing it open with a wide grin on his face.

"You looking forward to getting back into the field, mon?"

"Oh yes," Bags replied emphatically, shooting him a grin. "Like it's my job!"

* * *

Calypso had a hard time tracking Orpheus down at first. The lazy musician had always had a knack for hiding from work, whether spy work or otherwise. Having also seen the writing on the wall, he had absconded himself easily enough, but he hadn't thought to hide his wife.

"Sirena," Calypso said as she opened their front door. The unfortunate couple lived in Mycanae, and had only recently finished rebuilding enough of their home to live in it. They had talked of moving into Ilium proper, like most of their former neighbors had done, but had yet to finalize any plans. "I have been looking everywhere for your husband, mon. Have you seen him?"

"He said he was going in to work today," she replied in that musical accent of hers. "What, was he not at Virgil's?"

Calypso shook his head.

"Playing hooky again! It's a wonder he hasn't been fired in all these years!" she huffed.

In truth, the layabout hadn't been fired because Homer had been one of their undercover agents. Virgil, however, was not. Orpheus probably wouldn't be able to maintain his job at the new pub for long given the chance.

He wouldn't be given the chance.

"Don't worry about it, mon, I'm sure I'll run into him eventually," Calypso replied with a casual shrug.

"When you do, try to knock some sense into him, will you?" she replied, shaking her tight curls.

"I'll do my best, mon," Calypso grinned. "Don't worry. He can't be far."

He bid Sirena adieu, but didn't turn to leave when she shut the door behind her. Closing his eyes, the swordsman tuned himself to the world around him. Sure enough, he could sense Orpheus nearby in the abandoned neighborhood.

It would be a simple thing to go to the lout, but why go through the effort when Calypso could draw him out without moving from this very spot?

Drawing one of his machetes, he pointed it toward the woebegone house, focused his energy, and drew his arm back. Just when he was about to slice the house through horizontally, most assuredly killing Sirena in the process, a certain lazy agent appeared straight in front of him.

Calypso hadn't been using haki, something Orpheus must have realized, or he wouldn't have put himself between the agent and his home using nothing stronger than Iron Body. As it was, Calypso's blade stopped short on the side of Orpheus' head.

"Not nice, Blue," he yawned, pushing the blade aside.

"Well, it's good to see you haven't lost your mastery of Rokushiki at least, mon," Calypso replied. "I take it you know why I'm here?"

"I'm lazy, not stupid," Orpheus replied. "I've just been…uh…"

"Putting off the inevitable?"

"Yeah, that, I guess," Orpheus said, scratching the back of his head nonchalantly.

Calypso smiled at him almost fondly, as though Orpheus' antics amused him. But then, quite out of nowhere, the smile disappeared and he backhanded him. It came as such a shock that Orpheus hadn't put up any of his defenses. The belitting strike left a red mark on his cheek.

"Don't lie to me, you useless coward," Calypso spat. "You've just spent all day waffling over whether you can do it or not, haven't you? At least Gloriadne was decisive, mon."

Orpheus blinked at him, holding the side of his face. "Huh? Gloriadne is back in town?"

"Yeah, mon. Not only did she choose her family, she tried to warn the Queen," Calypso went on. "Unfortunately, Bags had to end her."

Orpheus shuddered visibly. "Come on, Blue. You know I'm loyal to Cipher Pol over Ilium. It's only Sirena I care about. Can't we leave her be?"

Calypso eyed him disdainfully.

"She doesn't deserve to be caught up in this," Orpheus pleaded, "You said so once yourself."

The swordsman seemed to ponder his comrade's plea for a moment. "I suppose I could help you out, on one condition mon."

Orpheus face lit up with hope. He looked more awake than he had all morning.

"Anything!"

"You have to burn your bridges completely, mon," he said. "You have to be able to make her believe you are leaving her and that you are never coming back."

Orpheus face filled with sorrow at this. What was wrong with these agents? Bags had certainly handed him the worst of the worst. Neither Orpheus or Gloriadne had control of their emotions!

"What'll it be, mon?" Calypso asked impatiently. "Can you walk away from her and not look back?"

Orpheus ran a hand nervously through his untamed hair, then wiped a few tears from his eyes. "Yeah…" he said, tenor voice cracking, but then strengthened as he found some resolve somewhere in that spineless soul of his. "Yeah, give me a second."

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he made his way slowly to his front door. It only took a knock, and the quarrel was already on:

"Where on earth have you been, Orpheus?" Sirena demanded, brow turned. "You told me you were heading to work, but Blue just told me you weren't there! Orpheus, we don't have the means for you to treat your job like this right now. Not with our house in pieces like this! Not when…"

Orpheus looked her square in the eye, and cut her off. "I never deserved a woman like you," he told her, then kissed her, long and deep. Calypso watched from the shadows, unimpressed, waiting for Orpheus to lose his resolve so he could kill them both and be done.

Orpheus pulled away, and his wife chuckled, red in the cheeks. "What's this all about, then?" she asked.

"I'm…"

Orpheus could say any number of things here. The easiest would be to claim he was cheating or something. Calypso waited, mildly amused, mostly impatient.

"I'm done," Orpheus said.

"Done?" Sirena asked, brows furrowed.

"Done. This marriage thing. It's not for me."

Calypso rolled his eyes. The idiot clearly knew nothing of women. He had opened himself up for a long-winded argument.

"What are you talking about?" Sirena demanded. "You can't just up and say that out of the blue. Is this about work? Why would you…?!"

Then Orpheus yawned.

Oh, the audacity! Sirena usually put up with his narcolepsy without much of a thought, but in that moment it stabbed her where it counted. Calypso had to hand it to him, Orpheus was giving him a good show.

"Wait, don't you care what I think?"

Orpheus quipped back with something that must have taken everything in him to say:

"Not really," he drawled, and he yawned again for good measure. "I never really did."

Sirena's usually sunny expression darkened completely. She lifted a hand to slap him across the face, he winced in anticipation, but Sirena had never been the violent sort. Her arm fell lamely to her side, and she burst into angry tears.

"Well fine then, you great layabout," she bawled. "You think you can just kiss me like that and then call it quits? Just go then! And don't even think about the ring. I'll pawn it to fix this house up for myself on my own, got it? Just go!" she pushed him off of their front porch.

He stumbled, wide-eyed as she slammed the door, closing him out for good.

Calypso awarded the performance with a well-deserved slow clap, emerging from his place in the shadows. Orpheus turned his pathetic, tear-stained face to him as he approached, but then he almost turned back to the house.

Calypso drew a machete, blocking Orpheus' view of his former home with the blade:

"Well, go on, mon," Calypso said, grinning sadistically.

"I actually love her, Calypso," Orpheus pleaded, though he kept his gaze forward. "Can't you try to imagine what that feels like?"

"Not even a little bit," Calypso replied without ire. Then he reiterated. "Now walk away and don't look back."

Orpheus dissolved into a fresh wave of tears, but did as he was bid like a good little government slave. Calypso watched him go, his head cocked to one side as he contemplated what was, to him, a completely irrational attachment. No woman was worth the tears.

Before the distraught man had walked completely out of sight, Calypso sauntered up to Sirena's door and knocked.

"Are you all right in there, mon?" he called, just to let her know he wasn't Orpheus.

Sirena opened the door a crack. "Blue?" she asked, sniffling.

"I'm here to help," he told her, then promptly shoved his machete into her ribs.

Her labored gasp alerted Orpheus to her death. Though lazy as all get out, the man reappeared at the door using shave, but he wasn't fast enough. The light had already left her eyes.

"Calypso, you bastard!" Orpheus wailed, clutching her lifeless body. "You said…!"

"I said I'd help you, mon," Calypso replied coolly, swiping his sword aside to clear it of blood. "I told you not to look back."


	7. Chapter 7 - Other Forces at Work

A/N: Happy New Year, all!

Purpose of this chapter? Flesh out CP4 a bit more. But I promise we'll get back to our more favoriter characters soon.

Fair warning: there may be a west-side story snapping Utahraptor in this chapter. Yeah, you read that right.

* * *

Ch. 7 – Other Forces at Work

Robertus found Gloriadne in a part of the main city that had been damaged during the fight with Regent and the Navy. Though not far from the palace, it had not been repaired, and for the time being remained abandoned.

She lay unmoving in a pool of her own blood.

"Gloriadne!" he cried, falling to his knees beside her. Taking her in his arms, he turned her blank, pale face toward him. "Amorcita! Wake up!"

No response.

"Come on!" he begged, shaking her lifeless body with tears welling up in his eyes. "I got the boys to safety. Tell me what it is we need to warn the queen, then we can get out of here!"

"Oh, so glad to hear you didn't go straight to Queen Helena, like it's your job," a voice said from behind him. "I had a feeling you wouldn't."

Robertus turned, eyes flashing dangerously toward his wife's tormentor.

"Who are you people?" he demanded. "Why are you doing this?"

"And why would I tell you?" Bags asked, swaggering toward him. He twirled his umbrella with surprising dexterity, like a performer's cane, and then stuck it into the ground, leaning on it to survey his handywork. Bubbles floated from his pipe in carefree puffs as he spoke. "I know that you can disappear into the shadows now, sir. I would be a fool to feed you information, like it's my job, even if I am planning to kill you like I did your wife."

Robertus bowed his head, his entire body shaking in rage as he lay Gloriadne to rest on the ground. Face hidden from Bags' view by a white fedora, he searched his powers.

When he lifted his head, his eyes had turned a predatory gold down to the sclera, pupils slitted.

"You're going to regret doing that," he growled, his teeth sharp.

Scales sprouted all over his body in red swirling patterns like those shaved into his head. His Edwardian gloves tore as his hands lengthened into claws, and his feet grew talons, bursting his dress shoes. The snarling mouth widened in a long, snapping set of jaws as a scant crown of feathers sprouted from his head and along his lengthening back.

Moments later, Bags stared up, only mildly impressed, at an enormous black and red Utahraptor in a white fedora. His feathers flared awkwardly beneath the hat, and stuck out like arm cuffs out of his suitcoat around his taloned hands.

"Hmm," Bags said. "An Ancient Zoan Power. But where would you have come across that?" Realization crossed his face, and he burst into a round of jolly laughter, mustache twitching.

"No…" he gasped, wiping a tear from his beady eyes.

"What's so funny?" Robertus growled.

"Nothing," Bags snorted. "I had been wondering how you could mourn your wife after finding out she'd been lying to you about who she was your entire marriage. But it turns out you had a secret of your own, eh?"

Robertus narrowed his reptilian gaze.

"I know the man who has that devil fruit, like it's my job," Bags insisted. "He's a Revolutionary. To come in contact with him, you'd have to be one too."

"So what?" Robertus snarled.

"So, I just thought it was amusing. A Revolutionary married to an agent of Cipher Pol, and neither knew what the other was."

Robertus glanced down at his wife. "I was going to tell her," he insisted vulnerably, voice cracking even in his draconic form. "If it ever came to that."

"I'm sure she intended to do the same, if it makes you feel any better," Bags grinned. "Unfortunately, we never gave her the chance now, did we?"

"But you _did_ just tell me what you are," Robertus growled, a smirk tweaking his reptilian face. "Now I can get a message out to our contact. They _will_ come to Ilium's aid, trust me."

"Oh, I'm sure they _would_ ," Bags replied. "If your message got through. They've been trying to get a foothold in Ilium for years, like it's their job. However, despite their obvious dislike for the World Government, Queen Helena and her predecessors have avoided giving us more reason to cause Ilium grief by openly accepting them here. Yet, you say the Revolutionaries would come to Ilium's aid?"

"We can't allow Ilium to fall," Robertus insisted. "The sea prism alone would make the World Government too powerful, not to mention the god powers. So whether Queen Helena likes it or not," he snapped his taloned fingers, "Ilium is Revolutionary turf."

He bore down on Bags, snapping his dinosaur fingers up and down menacingly as he approached. Unmoved, unimpressed, the squat man gazed placidly up at the raptor four times his size. Even when the dancer gone dinosaur made a flying leap straight at him, he did nothing but sidestep him, swinging his umbrella up to his shoulder.

"All those powers at your disposal, and you choose this one, like it's your job," Bags commented. "But then, I guess a Logia like the Ink Ink fruit would wear you out too quickly. Accessing past powers takes a lot of energy, I understand, particularly the more powerful ones. That was Gloriadne's mistake. She didn't count on how quickly the Glimmer Glimmer fruit would wear her out."

"Shut up," Robertus snarled. "After what you've done, I'm going to rend you with my bare claws."

Gloriadne groaned from the ground, and the two men turned to her sharply. Relief washed through her husband

"Still some breath left, I see," Bags observed. "We can't have that, can we?"

Moving faster than Robertus ever would have expected out of one so fat, Bags went to finish her off. With heightened reptilian senses, the raptor managed to stop him with a shuffle-hop, lord-of-the-dance pose. Kneeling over his wife, his extended arm barely caught Bags' hand in time.

Robertus had never seen an attack using a single finger like that before. He didn't have time to ponder on it, though. Bags was already on the attack. After that moment, the dance master never gained back any sort of advantage. The Head of Cipher Pol 4 proved too much for him to handle.

* * *

Bags nonchalantly poked at Robertus' lifeless body with his umbrella, flipping him face up to be sure he'd stopped breathing. In the process he knocked him into his equally lifeless wife. Side by side, the two lay, covered not in finger bullet wounds – their powers had actually prevented him from landing that attack effectively – but in odd lacerations, like the kinds caused by shrapnel.

They hadn't foresee Bags' special attack style, but that was nothing new. People generally underestimated him for his girth, unless they had the observation haki to know better.

"It really is a shame," he told his victims. "If I'm completely honest, I'd rather avoid senseless killing, though I'm pretty good at it, like it's my job. You really left me no choice, though Gloriadne. – I suppose your children are too small to be of threat to us, but," he focused on her husband, "You must have entrusted them to someone, Robertus the Revolutionary. I'll have to look into it, like it's my job, to be sure whoever it is isn't out to warn the queen."

He puffed a few bubbles from his pipe, eyeing them a moment longer. Satisfied when neither twitched or drew breath, he walked away, swinging his umbrella like he hadn't a care in the world.

For all he had researched the Alpha Alpha and Omega Omega fruits before, though, he failed to take into account one of its crucial properties.

Oh, he knew that the Alpha Alpha Fruit could imitate the power of any devil fruit its user came in contact with; that the Omega Omega fruit could imitate whatever its user subconsciously perceived as the opposite of the devil fruit she touched. It was what made them the Alpha and Omega of all devil fruits. When they had freshly stolen a power, they could use it with all the strengths and weakness of its original user, but only one at a time, which meant touching each other would negate the power, leaving them vulnerable and human.

However, upon further training, they found they could access past powers they had experienced, though at great cost of energy.

If Bags had thought about this energy cost, he might have thought twice about tossing Robertus into his wife. At such proximity, the Alpha and Omega fruit negated any energy draining powers that had been put to use, returning to both users just enough vigor to again draw breath.

He didn't see, didn't stay nearby long enough to suspect, that they still lived. –That, though covered in wounds, the pair managed to drag themselves away from the abandoned part of the city to a more frequented side street, where they again collapsed, senseless, but in the path of help.

* * *

Bags had always had an odd feeling around Nysa. Not that he could put a finger on why. Maybe it was because she had this really freaky smile, if one ever caught her smiling. And she always wore sunglasses, even indoors or at night.

She had been assigned to Ilium a little before himself, and when he'd looked her up he could find no record of her; not of her joining Cipher Pol, not of her training, nothing, so he wasn't entirely sure what she was capable of. She always acted in the loop though. She also knew the six arts, and the other agents seemed to acknowledge her, so he never questioned it beyond confirming with his fellow higher ups that she was, indeed, one of their own.

Ultimately, he didn't doubt her efficiency. She had a way of bringing order to Chaos, and her hammer hammer power was invaluable.

Bags addressed her the afternoon before the party, just to be sure they had everything in place:

"I have confirmed we have six agents at our disposal tonight, like it's my job," he informed her. "Calypso, Orpheus, Diddy, you and myself, and then of course…"

She patted a fur bag she wore over her usual kilt: a sporran.

"He is ready," she said in her usual, clipped manner. Bags wasn't sure if she ever spoke in sentences longer than three words. Well, maybe the rare four.

"He knows his orders?" Bags went on.

Nysa nodded.

"Gloriadne?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I had to terminate her, like it's my job," he said with a sigh. "She and her husband. Her young children escaped me. They are with Robertus' sister, Cinnabar, and her son, Ajax. They skipped town, but I don't think they are enough of a threat for me to pursue them outside Ilium's ports."

Nysa nodded again. Then she pulled something from her sporran. A clipboard. Though the pouch was far too small to have contained it, it came out with ease. A moment later, she reached in and pulled out a pen without having to rummage at all. It practically appeared in her hand.

"The package?" she asked, tapping the pen against a list on the clipboard.

"Calypso is getting the package now, like it's his job," Bags replied, and she checked something off. "And you are certain, absolutely certain this will work?"

Nysa raised a brow at him behind her sunglasses. "Having doubts?" she asked.

"I'm just not sure how someone can be certain of the will of the gods around here," Bags admitted. "They seem capricious. But if you are absolutely certain of your intel that they have had enough of Helena and Cygnus, then this is the opportunity we've been waiting for, like it's our job."

"I am," she responded. "This _will_ work."

Why didn't he question it?

Maybe because he didn't care to spend more time than necessary with her. That freaky smile… She never showed it around the royal family, but she was doing it now. It seemed to crawl up her face higher than humanly possible.

"Don't worry, Sweetums," she assured him. "Chaos will reign tonight."


	8. Chapter 8 - Sybil Disobedience

A/N: So, a reminder. Cassandra is a prophetess. She is tiny, speaks with a Minnesotan accent, dontcha know, and likes to give snacks and well-meant but unsolicited advice (remember, she gave Coby cookies?). She isn't the same person as the Sybil, who is 9 feet tall and likes to insult people. They're both prophetesses I guess, but the Sybil is a churro-loving hermit who serves a special purpose in connecting the royal family to the god powers.

* * *

Ch. 8 – Sybil Disobedience

Helena had good reason to hate parties.

At her Coronation she'd made enemies of all her neighboring kingdoms, and was kidnapped by her friend-gone-power-mad.

At the last City of Dionysus festival, she had gone insane and attacked her husband, thinking he was a specter from the Gods. She'd made a lot of enemies that night too.

She shouldn't have expected a homecoming party to go any differently. It didn't matter that she was surrounded by familiar faces this time. It turned out she had some enemies hidden among the trusted crowd.

Bags' presence had been the first clue that something was wrong. As she glared him down with icy indignation, having just informed Bags that Ilium would never be home to him, she waved the Head of Security to her side.

"Paris, what is this man doing here?"

Paris blinked at the intruder in surprise, then quickly drew his bow and nocked it with a sword.

"I don't know how he got past my security," he said, narrowing his eyes. "We would have executed him on sight, Majesty. What are your orders?"

As satisfying as it would be to execute Bags, he'd argued that his retirement made him immune to her order of exile. It was semantics, but they were good semantics, and she couldn't kill him in good conscience now.

"Have him escorted out of the country," she replied, holding up a hand to Paris so that he would lower his weapon. "Bags, consider yourself _personally_ exiled this time. I don't want to see your face here again."

Bags sighed dramatically. "Oh, phooey," he said, sounding not the least bit penitant. "I guess I'll just have to leave then, like it's my job. But first, a gift."

At a motion from Bags, Nysa approached, a large, glitter-wrapped gift box appearing out of nowhere in her hands. Helena blinked at her hitherto loyal servant, trying to fathom why she would be helping Bags of all people.

Bags took the box and held it out to the Queen, even going so far as to bow, flourishing his leg behind him for effect. Helena eyed the fat man suspiciously, as well she should.

The room had gone eerily quiet, and she found her hand creeping toward Peleus, the blade usually easiest for her to reach. Her tight sleeves made it difficult to even brush the handle with her fingertips.

"Open it," Helena commanded him, sensing a trap. The box had an unsettling smell.

"Don't trust me?" Bags asked. "Well, whatever the world may hitherto say of the Line of Prometheus, it won't be to question your intelligence." He proceeded to grab the lid of the box, and without further ado, he lifted it clear.

Helena peered into the box and the color drained from her face. Her hand had finally closed around the hilt of her favorite sword, but she didn't have the leverage to draw.

Bags looked up at her and smiled. The party hadn't yet started, but the overthrow had officially begun.

* * *

In his own chamber, Cygnus de Leda had just finished donning a royal chiton and toga. He'd never been one for suit coats and other such evening wear – they only made him look ganglier. The traditional garb of his country suited him better. Well, Helena too. When she couldn't wear her military uniform, Helena generally also preferred chitons to dresses – more leg room – but somehow she always ended up getting bullied into being the kingdom's fashion plate.

 _It's her own fault for being the prettier of the two of us_ , he thought with a smirk, briefly eyeing the rugged scratch scar Regent had left across his face.

Next he belted his sword to his side, eyeing it distastefully. He hated combat, and he hated that a sword of all things had taken on political and royal meaning. If he could have it his way, all battles would be fought with the wits only.

The King's Sword, a godly blade forged by Hephaestus himself, had two real benefits. One was that it could recognize those worthy of the god powers. Only such a one could draw it from its sheath. Historically, questions of paternity had been settled that way.

Another was that it could contend with those blessed with the protection of the gods. Unlike Helena's blade, it could harm members of the royal family like any ordinary blade, but beyond that, it could harm demi-gods, even the gods themselves some said, not that anyone had tested that theory. As King, he held a check to the gods' power.

There was once a time he'd refused to carry it except at royal functions. He'd been a staunch pacifist back then, and had refused to learn swordplay on principle. After having to contend with the might of the World Government firsthand, however, –after losing his wife and a thousand of his most trusted men because he couldn't fight by any means other than the god powers, he had realized the error of his idealism. Unfortunately, he had become a cripple, and no longer had the option of learning to fight.

When Helena had healed him, he'd finally agreed to train with her. Perhaps it was too little too late, though. At this age, he would never hope to be much of a threat in battle. At least he could defend himself, though.

And at least the country had Helena. She had not yet reached the sword mastery of her mother, but she had leadership skills, and an idyllic vision for the country that she had only recently rediscovered. Zoro had restored that in her, he knew.

Cygnus' reverie came to a sudden, unexpected end when the door to his private chambers burst open. Turning in alarm, his now trained hands immediately flew to his sword pommel, but they soon relaxed as he stared in surprise at the completely innocuous intruder.

"Cassandra!" he cried, reproachfully. "You gave me a real fright." Then his brow furrowed. "How in Hades did you reach my quarters? You're not supposed to be back here! Can't your prophecies wait until morning? I haven't the time for them right now."

The prophetess had pestered him daily since Helena had gone to sea. She'd handed out snacks and given her usual, "Ilium will fall, dontcha know!" schpeal, the one Helena had usually had to put up with, only Helena had always faced it with humor. Cygnus hadn't been sure whether or not to take the woman seriously, and so found her prophecies flustering at best. Usually they were a call to check his daughter, which wasn't really something he was certain he should do anymore. Cygnus had good reason to fear idealism, but something about Helena inspired him now.

The short, hunched Cassandra didn't look at him right away. Chest heaving, wrinkled face a sheet of sweat, she pushed the glasses up her tiny snub of a nose, gripping the doorframe to keep herself steady. It was as if she had sprinted through the palace to find him.

When she spoke at last, it wasn't to call him to repentance, or offer him chocolate sandwich cookies. She got straight to the point, skipping pleasantries to go into prophetess mode.

"CYGNUS DU PROMETHEUS," she boomed, "FLEE!"

"What…?" Cygnus blinking at her. "Cassandra, what's all this?"

"DEATH HAS COME. IT IS AT YOUR DOOR. ILIUM WILL FALL TONIGHT."

Well, at least that put a deadline on things. If it didn't fall as she said, perhaps they could tell Cassandra to drop all this and take up a career as a snack saleswoman. Something was different this time, though. Her voice sounded strange, almost like it didn't belong to her.

"THE SUN QUEEN HAS FAILED. YOU CAN NO LONGER SAVE HER. SAVE YOURSELF."

Then he saw her eyes, magnified by her spectacles. From the whites down to her pupils, they had gone completely silver. That had never happened before.

She fell back against the doorframe and sank to the floor, tears streaming down her face as she lost her frightening demeaner and her eyes returned to normal. "Why didn't you listen?" she moaned, gripping her wild nest of red hair. "Why didn't any of you listen?"

"Helena!" Cygnus gasped, dashing past the weeping prophetess.

The sweeping halls of his ancestral home seemed to go on forever, and yet he arrived in the throne room in less than a minute.

Though Cassandra's warning still rang in his ears, part of him dared to hope that she had been wrong. -That he would find Helena happily greeting guests while grousing about her dress under her breath. Instead he found her staring into a box presented her by their former World Government Liaison.

The contents of the box stared unseeing back.

The box contained the decapitated head of the Sybil.

* * *

Helena didn't say a word. Not that she could have gotten a thought in edgewise.

After Bags revealed his 'gift,' the Cipher Pol agents around her sprung into motion. The thick, sturdy fabric of her glittering golden dress left her to struggle helplessly for her weapons as party guests and guards alike fell to the ground around her. Paris leaped to her aid, but though he tried to fire at Bags, the fat man vanished the second he loosed his sword.

Paris slumped into her a moment later, blood seeping from a wound in his chest. A bullet wound. How could he have a bullet wound when no shots had been fired?

She screamed out to him as she caught him. The sword and bow dropped from his lifeless fingers, and his beloved camera snail fell from his pocket. It's flash temporarily blinded the queen as it struck the palace tiles, taking one final "shell-fie" of its master before Paris' eyes fell shut.

If she had had just a second or two more to think, the queen would have drawn one of the swords from his quiver. However, in her hesitation, shock and grief, someone trapped her arms behind her back.

"Orpheus?" she gasped, catching a glimpse of him over her shoulder as he bound her wrists with a broken, steel guitar string. "Orpheus, why…?"

He alone remained of her favorite childhood band. The rest of the musicians lay unmoving among their ruined instruments.

When he wouldn't answer her, she caught sight of Calypso, eyeing her predicament with a look of…satisfaction? He had blood on his hands.

"Calypso, help!" she cried, but he just grinned at her.

"You shouldn't have chosen that pirate, mon," he scolded her with sadistic vindication written all over his face. "None of this would have happened if you'd run away with me."

Helena could see her father now. Nysa had caught in a doorway leading to the throne room, cuffing him before he could draw his sword.

Diddy appeared a moment later. Helena knew she had been helping Kuina get ready. For whatever ridiculous reason – perhaps pride in her stupid creations – the fashion designer had finished dressing the young Princess up in a great, fluffy golden gown to match her mother's, only to bind her up with a length of ribbon afterward.

"Kuina!" Helena screamed as the child gnawed at her satin bonds with a fierce look on her little face. "Let her go!"

In that moment, Helena felt power well up inside her and pulse through the room. Orpheus lost his grip on her as he took a step back in surprise. Bags, Calypso, Nysa and Diddy all flinched.

In the pause, Cygnus shucked his sandal, and with a loud, "Honk!" he grabbed his captor by the ear with his toes, smashing her into the marble floor of the throne room.

Not to be outdone by her father, Helena spun and rammed her shoulder into Orpheus' gut, felling him.

Their resistance was token at best. Calypso soon had her trapped against him with a machete to the throat while Bags shoved Cygnus face first into the ground and sat on him with his great girth.

"Really, your majesties," Bags informed them, nonchalantly trimming his pipe with bubble juice as he spoke. "You made this all too easy for us, like it's your job. –Offending all the gods as if they weren't your only real protection from us." He patted the struggling Cygnus condescendingly on the head with blood-stained hands. "You loved your daughter too much, and disobeyed Zeus in his commands to check her. Such a foolish mistake for one who was once so wise and pious, Philosopher King. That was really the last straw, from what I understand."

Helena struggled against her captor, gritting her teeth at Bags as he surveyed her from his perch. Calypso tightened his grip on her, letting the machete bite into her skin in warning.

"That's to say nothing of you, Sun Queen," Bags went on, puffing on his pipe. "You're the one who offended all of them in the first place, weren't you? Forbidding worship. Declaring war on Hera, like it's your job." The fat man shrugged his portly shoulders. "–We mostly just had to wait for your patron goddess to give up on you. Athena was the last one really pulling for you, after all. But eventually she had to concede, didn't she? It's unprecedented. Never has Ilium boasted such a disobedient royal family. The gods won't come to your aid unbidden, and without the Sybil, you have no means of forcing them to help."

"We are more than our gods," Helena seethed, surprised, but not wasting her breath questioning how he knew all this. She could still feel that power, that haki coursing through her in her rage, and she focused it at him as best she understood how. "You may have gotten the drop on me and my palace guards, but ultimately you will fail."

"Calypso, take care of her before she causes any more problems," Bags instructed, ignoring her threat with frightening sangfroid.

"With pleasure, mon," Calypso replied, his breath hot on her skin. Was it her imagination, or had the scoundrel just brushed a kiss on her cheek?

Before she could retaliate, the butt of his machete connected hard with her skull, and everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9 - Up in Smoke

A/N: Brief cutback to the straw hats here to lighten the mood, if only incrementally. I promise, guys, this story does have cheerful, romantic, and fluffy moments ahead. I've just got to get through all these dark chapters. Sorry it's taking me so long. Though all things considered, two chapters a month isn't bad, right?

* * *

Ch. 9 – Up in Smoke

"Calypso was my guard after that," Helena went on, staring into her now empty mug. Sanji offered to refill it, but she declined, feeling inexplicably queasy now that she had something in her stomach again. "They kept my father, Kuina and me tied up on a balcony atop the palace, where we could see everything. When I came to, Calypso bragged to me about how he'd killed Sirena for Orpheus, and about what had happened to Gloriadne and Agamemnon and the rest of Cipher Pol's families. He made sure I knew about every betrayer we'd had in our midst, and every loss."

"He wanted to make you feel it," Robin observed, and Helena nodded.

"That's how I know what type of people they are," she went on. "They have no regard for human life, not even for the people closest to them."

"We are sadly aware of that from our past experience with Cipher Pol," Robin pointed out. "And you said these people are still after you and Kuina? There are five of them, correct? Nysa, Diddy and Orpheus, with Calypso Blue as Head Agent, and Bags as their handler. And only Nysa has a devil fruit?"

"There were six in total, actually," Helena replied. "And two devil fruit users."

Robin cocked her head. Helena could see her mentally counting them all over again to see where she'd missed one.

"The sixth Nysa kept hidden until the last moment using her Hammer Hammer power," Helena clarified. "This agent is someone you know, actually. And he had a hidden army under his command…"

* * *

On the steps of the palace, Bags glanced sidelong at Nysa, who stood beside him, grinning her creepy grin.

"Humph. The Queen is confident that her people can take us down, like it's their job," he pronounced, grinning even as he said it. "Let's prove her wrong, shall we?"

Nysa nodded, retrieving the sporran from about her waist. Undoing the clasp, she overturned the fur purse, and from it spilled…

Mice.

Thousands upon thousands of mice.

Not just any mice. Malacoda. These rodents at their smallest easily outsized a household dog. At their largest they could be ridden like horses. Perhaps most disconcerting of all, they had hissing, poisonous snakes in place of tails.

An impossible amount of them spilled from the hammer space within Nysa's bag, staring unseeing about them with blind, milky eyes. Waves of them poured over the palace steps and into Ilium proper, scattering unsuspecting civilians in their wake.

Soon with the brown, furry waterfall came a mac 'n cheese colored chef's toque, and then a man with a cylindrical body. A dali-esque mustache twitched on his smirking face.

"Sacre bleu!" he cried with an outrrrrrrageous French accent, stumbling to his feet. "Zat time already? Go my loyal minions! – the only ones to truly appreciate my cooking! Bring Ilium to her knees!"

* * *

"CHEF FETA?!" the Straw Hats who knew him cried, interrupting Helena.

The deposed queen nodded.

"I KNEW that guy was no good!" Sanji seethed, curly eyebrow twitching in rage. "How can anyone trust a CHEF who creates INEDIBLE FOOD?"

"Well, I suppose _we_ made the mistake of doing so," Helena admitted, and Zoro shot Sanji a warning glare.

"Who's Chef Feta?" Franky and Brook asked together.

"He used to work at the palace back around the time I was coronated," Helena explained. "He was a terrible cook, mostly because he relied on his Cheese Cheese fruit to, uh, garnish his dishes with Cheese Whiz..."

"Ow! Cheese Whiz isn't so bad," Franky interrupted with a shrug.

"…which he shot from his elbows," Sanji finished for her.

"And other parts of his body as well," Helena pointed out. "Fingers, toes…I've seen him shoot it from his nose before."

Sanji's face blotched purple with rage.

"Ok, that is superrrr gross," Franky conceded. "Though an elbow canon sounds kind of handy…"

"And Nysa kept Feta and his rodent army contained in that pouch she wears?" Robin asked, intrigued.

Helena nodded. "Yes. Now that you mention it, it's probably the pouch that has the Hammer Hammer fruit. I had forgotten that objects like that could have powers."

"A purse full of infinite hammer space, huh? Sounds really useful," Usopp observed, cocking his head. "So was Feta just hanging out in there with all the mice since last we saw him?"

"Who knows," Helena shrugged. "I think it more likely that he was living underground, winning over the queen of the Malacoda and ultimately dethroning her. They seem to regard him as their overlord or something."

"More like a god," Usopp snickered. "He can make it rain cheese, after all." His amusement faded when he saw that Helena wasn't smiling:

"As ridiculous as he is, with surprise and numbers on his side, I am ashamed to say that his rat army subdued my people all to easily. It happened before I came to, so I can't give you many details."

"I thought we helped you beat some of those things last time we were there," Sanji pointed out pensively.

"No, those were the malabranches – the lion things," Usopp reminded him. "The malacoda were on our side. From what I saw, the mice were actually _more_ vicious than the cats."

"Perhaps," Helena agreed. "In this particular instance, it appears it was their numbers, and the poison in their tails that provided the biggest hinderance. The majority of my people are trained swordsmen, but no one expected an attack to begin from _within_ the city."

"And Hector?" Zoro asked.

Helena sighed. "He wasn't there," she replied. "If he had been in town, he'd have been attending the party and subdued with the rest of us, but he was training up new recruits in Spathens to replace the men we lost in the last battle. Lieutenant General Achilles was in charge at the wall…"

* * *

Only in her nightmares could Helena de Zoro have ever imagined the scene spread before her after she finally came to. From the ever so gracious vantage Cipher Pol had granted her family, she watched as her beautiful city was completely overrun by enormous rats.

Above her, somewhere on the roof of the palace she could hear the sound of a sorrowful violin. Orpheus, Calypso had informed her, playing a lament for his lost love no doubt. Now that they had successfully secured the palace, the Cipher Pol agents apparently weren't needed in the battle below.

The lights of a small fleet had appeared out of nowhere out in the bay, their presence making it clear why Achilles and his soldiers hadn't turned their attention toward the main city. Anyway, the wave of rats had swooped in so quickly, they hadn't time to react.

"The perfect plan, mon," Calypso's voice came from behind her. He had taken to toying with a lock of hair at the nape of her neck. "We don't need a force like Regent's to secure you now. Just some decent firepower."

"The Navy?" Cygnus asked calmly, flatly, as though commenting on an opponent's chess strategy. Helena glanced at her father, where he stood with his arms still bound behind him, tall and proud despite their predicament. She imitated him, hoping to hide her own fear and awe, trying not to react to Calypso's continued lack of regard for her personal space.

"No, mon," Calypso replied, but he kept his attention on Helena as he spoke, not the king. "The Seven Warlords of the Sea. They are led by the Fleet Admiral, and a small regiment of his men."

"Not going for a Buster Call this time?" Cygnus observed.

"There's no need," Calypso replied, brushing the scar on Helena's neck with the backs of his fingers.

She forced herself not to flinch, feeling keenly her daughter's eyes on her. Kuina did not look over the railing like her mother and grandfather. The satin ribbon cocoon around her still held her bound, and she lay sniffling on the ground, too confused to make sense of what was going on.

"No need?" Helena replied to Calypso in as even a tone as she could manage. "The majority of the Schichibukai are devil fruit users. Our sea prism alone will be enough to…"

A loud explosion from the bay ripped through the night, announcing the collapse of the Sea Prism mines. The shockwave reached all the way to the palace, ruffling their hair and clothes, but it was the sheer horror of seeing and hearing the crux of her country's economy go up in smoke that made Helena step back.

Unfortunately, she stumbled right into Calypso, who caught her readily, pulling her tightly to him.

"You were saying, mon?" he murmured sadistically into her ear. "You can thank Diddy for that little explosion, by the way. No one thought anything of letting Agamemnon's grandmother wander through his property as she pleased. She sabotaged your shatter cannons too. I don't expect your sea prism weapons will be of much help."

She tried to wrench herself from his arms, but his grip was too strong. "Why?" she seethed, trying not to scream it in her shock and anger. "You've murdered the Sybil AND destroyed our mines. What good does conquering this country do the World Government now?"

"From what I hear, they finally got tired of this little dance you've been locked in," Calypso replied. "They figured if they couldn't have your goods," his arm tightened around her, "No one could."

Helena attempted to wrench herself free again. At the exact same moment Calypso released her, laughing as her own momentum drove her hard into the railing of the balcony before her. Winded, she sank to her knees.

She turned herself to face him as his booted footsteps approached her from behind. Her bound arms and stupid, tight dress kept her from staggering to her feet, but at least she could try to face him head on. He took to one knee over her, reached out and started toying with her chains of office.

"You've buzzed around the head of the bear for so long that you forgot your size, mon," he simpered, reeling her toward him link by link until he had her choking for breath, so close that their faces almost touched. "Now that you've lost your stinger, no one is afraid to crush you."

Helena glared at him, twitching in rage, daring him to kiss her.

Calypso smirked at her, "Have I told you how _ravishing_ you look tonight, mon?" he said with sinister emphasis.

He pulled her face to his suddenly, forcing her lips apart. She'd been expecting it, but she hadn't expected something so passionate. It took her a moment to retaliate, but when she did she made sure he'd ever regret his decision:

He pushed her away suddenly, all seductive bravado evaporating in his shock.

"You bid mah tongue, mohn!" he exclaimed affectedly, as though he had a bubble in his mouth, "You bid _through_ mah tongue!"

Helena raised both brows at him as if to question why he'd be so surprised. She sat up and spit blood at his feet.

"What, you didn't enjoy it?" she goaded. "I told you I like it rough."

Cygnus laughed, and Helena's cheeks flushed a bit to think that her father had been witness to all this, not to mention her daughter, but when he spoke he sounded immensely proud of her: "Her Majesty may have lost her sting, miscreant, but she still has teeth."

Calypso quickly drew his machete and pointed it toward her.

"I'w show you wough, mohn," he started, but then Kuina burst out laughing too.

"You tawk funny," she observed.

"Youw wone to tawk, mohn," Calypso retaliated before he realized he was arguing with a two-year-old. In a moment of epiphany, he seemed to realize how he could hurt Helena most. His blade flashed toward helpless little girl.

"STOP!" Helena screamed. She couldn't move her tied arms, her legs lacked leverage in the stupid pencil dress. She could do nothing but throw herself on top of her daughter, placing herself in the blade's trajectory.

The far more mobile Cygnus managed to catch the man's wrist between his toes with a loud, "HONK! Don't you touch them, dastard!"

He tried to disarm Calypso with a dexterous twist, but the swordsman easily swept his sword arm free. He rubbed his sore wrist a moment pensively, brow furrowed as his lip twitched in disgust.

Their row stopped short at another explosion. Helena chanced to straighten up and glance at the city below and gasped.

Great fists of molten lava rained down from the sky. One had just struck the indestructible sea stone walls of Ilium, melting a portion of it instantly. More fists followed, opening her city's ageless walls as easily as the curtain on a stage. A great, blue bubble appeared at another portion of her wall, and when it vanished that portion lay in pieces. She couldn't see clearly from her vantage, but it seemed to her that great squadrons of Achilles' men had stopped moving – frozen in stone. A slash bigger and stronger than even Calypso's had been tore through the city center and struck the palace itself, making it shake.

Orpheus' violin suddenly changed its tune to a mad dervish from above. He sounded positively insane.

"No…" Helena uttered, drowned out by the sound. Then more loudly, "NO!"

She whipped around toward Calypso with newfound fury, her one desire to rip into him the way Akainu and his small fleet were ripping into her city. Before her newfound fervor could drive her inexplicably to her feet, Calypso turned his machete on Cygnus, stabbing him deftly in the thigh.

Her father crumpled with a cry of pain, which he quickly bit back, looking at Kuina. "Grandpa's fine," he reassured the little girl through gritted teeth, now kneeling at her level. He forced a pained smile.

Kuina stared at him through wide eyes, taking everything in though she said nothing.

Before Helena could react, Calypso had the point of his freshly bloodied blade at her throat.

Orange light glanced off the palace as heat radiated from below. Helena could see fire reflected in Calypso's eyes and from his sword. Obviously realizing how stupid he now sounded, the livid swordsman didn't say anything more, just lifted his bloodied blade to her cheek, turning her face toward the city now aflame below. With sadistic satisfaction he watched the pain in her face as Ilium went up in smoke.

And all the while, Orpheus sawed away at his violin.


	10. Chapter 10 - To Live

A/N: may or may not have cried writing this. I think it's one thing to think, "gee, I'll destroy Ilium. That will make for an interesting story line." - but then to sit down and write it...I'm a monster.

* * *

Ch. 10 – To Live

The rattle of a snare drum accompanied Helena's footfalls as step by weary step she made her way up a set of wet, stone stairs. Salt spray stung her face, though not from the ocean nor from tears. It came from her own execution fountain.

It had been repaired since the Straw Hats had been there last. Beautiful and pristine it stood, despite the current destruction in the rest of the city. There, surrounded by statues of her own, silent gods, Helena resigned herself to the end.

The fire hadn't consumed all of the city, which remained ablaze, nor had it yet reached the palace or the execution plaza in front of it. There were more survivors than Helena had dared to hope. Covered in blood and soot, wearing weary, devastated expressions, they had been rounded up to watch the World Government's triumph. They wailed when they saw her take her place upon a wooden platform, suspended above a large, salt water tank.

"Sun Queen!"

"Daughter of Zeus!"

They cried, extending hands that would never reach her.

Akainu had claimed the capitol as conquered though the night, nor the battle, had yet come to a conclusion. Some of her people still fought on outside the ruined walls, too stubborn to accept defeat. They didn't stop, though all of their leaders, including Lieutenant General Achilles, stood awaiting execution following their king and queen.

Helena met his tearful gaze. He'd always been an emotional man, though a skilled fighter, and loyal through and through. Beside him stood Menelaus and her other lieutenants, including Andromache and the nursemaid unit, all likewise bound. They had been captured not an hour prior, trying to rescue Kuina (and subsequently Helena and Cygnus) from the palace rooftop.

Cipher Pol agents, now all wearing wooden masks to hide their identities, guarded her steps. She thought it insulting, but not entirely unfitting, that they'd chosen traditional masks from her own ruined country. Calypso even dared to wear Zeus' face. – She felt the gods betrayal as much or more than Cipher Pol's, why not have Zeus lord over her like he always had?

Still trussed up for the party like herself, her father limped his way to another platform beside her. Pale from loss of blood, though his wound had received basic first aid, he barely managed to hold himself upright, and Helena couldn't help but remember his previous frailty. He turned his nose up to help from a marine, however, determined to face the end with dignity.

The King and Queen still wore their crowns, and Helena her chains of office. Cipher Pol was even so confident in their defeat, they'd left their swords strapped to them in mockery. They'd bound their hands in front now; switching their bonds out with sea prism handcuffs like the kind Ilium would use to execute pirates.

Kuina had fallen asleep cradled in the arms of a marine. Though also dressed up in her crown and finery, the princess had been cut free from her ribbon cocoon. Helena found it comforting to discover that the little green fox toy her father had given her had been bound inside the ribbon with her. She clutched it now, tear-stained cheeks pressed to it.

Looking uncomfortable with his duty, the marine walked ceremoniously up to the platform and placed the child in Helena's arms. The hand off couldn't exactly happen smoothly, what with Helena's arms bound, and it jostled Kuina awake.

"Mama," Kuina whimpered in the fountain's spray. "I cold."

"I know, Kuina Bee. We'll go home soon."

Kuina nuzzled into her. "Want Papa," she said.

"Me too," Helena murmured.

"Queen Helena du Cygnus…" Fleet Admiral Sakasuki started.

"It's de Zoro," Helena cut him off. She stared proudly down her nose at the man who had caused her family so much grief. She owed him no respect, and would show him none. "If you're going to murder me like you murdered my mother, get it right."

"Queen Helena de Zoro," the man corrected, an amused smile on his lined face. Comfortable in his triumph, he didn't argue. "King Cygnus de Leda, Princess Kuina du Helena et Zoro. For crimes of open rebellion against the World Government, and for posing a danger to the world at large, you who remain of the line of Prometheus have been sentenced to drown until dead. How do you plead?"

"Guilty," Helena and Cygnus replied solidly at once.

The people wailed in protest, but fell silent at a fiery glance from Akainu. They had all seen this man incinerate anyone in his path after all.

"As it is rumored that one of you will become immortal at the death of the other two, the last to drown will live out his or her deathless days in Impel Down," the Fleet Admiral went on. "Have you any final requests."

Cygnus looked the man in the eye. "Let my people live freely under your government's rule," he proclaimed, voice strong despite his pallor.

Akainu said nothing affirming this. He turned to Helena. "And you?" he asked.

She turned her gaze to Monte Bags. He'd foregone a mask, and proudly donned the white suit of a Cipher Pol chief. - Someone who rarely performed field work and nearing his own retirement had no reason to keep his face hidden.

"Bags," Helena growled. The name ripped out of her before she calmed her anger to go on with her request: "You know our customs. Many have lost their lives tonight. Please ensure that they receive proper burial so that their souls do not wander."

She saw a flash of sympathy in his eyes. Removing the bubble pipe from his mouth, he gave a small nod. "Like it's my job," he assured her, sounding perfectly sincere for once.

"Nothing will remain of your culture after tonight," Akainu put in unhelpfully. "It inspires rebellion and is a threat to the rest of the world's peace. As we speak, your annuls are being set aflame within the palace." Helena could see smoke curling above her home. She had thought it just a residual of the flames within the city, but now she knew the palace too would burn. "The temples of your gods will be thrown down. – your sacred groves turned to ash."

Coincidentally as he said it, she saw flames start up within the Grove of Kings. These had not come from the battle. They had been set intentionally by the marines, just like the ones in her ancestral home.

Her son's grave…

She may have deserved to die for her negligence. The gods deserved to have their temples thrown down for their pettiness. But her son, her mother, the kings and queens who had ruled before her, the warriors who had died in defense of their home did not deserve such dishonor.

Helena had silenced her fears, had bit back as much emotion as she could to put on a strong face for her people. But something about this final cruelty forced a few tears out; tears that she couldn't wipe away.

Her daughter's hands reached up to her cheeks.

"It ok, mama," Kuina reassured her. "We go home soon."

Akainu lifted a hand into the air. "Let justice be served," he said, letting it fall.

Masked cipher pol agents pulled the levers with a creak that resonated over the rush of the fountain's waters. The wooden platform disappeared beneath the feet of the doomed royal family. Her people screamed, but all went silent for Helena as she hit the frigid water.

She'd only had half a second to react, but thankfully she'd always had excellent reflexes. Dropping Kuina just as they fell, she managed to get a grip over the girl's mouth and nose, holding them closed with bound and battleworn hands.

The queen's eyes flew open against the water's sting. She gazed through the bluish haze, across to the other tank, where she met her father's eyes.

Not once had he chided her in all of their captivity. Not once in all of this, when she most deserved it, had he criticized any of the poor choices she had made to bring them here. He should hate her, but she saw nothing but heartbreaking love in those sharp, intelligent eyes. And she knew they were united in this final decision at least.

They nodded toward one another, and against all natural instinct, both forced a breath.

As the water rushed into her lungs, Helena had an inexplicable amount of time to remember. She remembered the fluffy, grey owl that had brought her her first wooden sword as a child. – remembered challenging Mihawk at the age of ten. – remembered bowing before a statue of Athena within her temple at fifteen. She remembered every word of her vow, and every implication to follow.

She remembered the long hours of training, her year of military service under General Hector. She remembered Troy, her second big defeat against the world's greatest swordsman, the loss of her child, her war with the gods. She remembered taking on her peoples' pain. Funny that the woman who had once healed her nation had now brought upon it its destruction.

Through it all, she remembered Zoro. –the man who had lit a fire in her to try to make something of her country that it could never become. Yet she still believed in him above any other. It was her trust in him that allowed her to take that deadly breath, knowing that though in so doing she and her father condemned Kuina to live, it wouldn't be in the cruel confines of Impel Down. Roronoa Zoro and his captain surely would not stand for it.

 _Live,_ Helena thought to Kuina. _Your father will find you soon. You'll get to go out to sea with him, just like you wanted._

The world started to fade. Helena heard the voice of her own mother, calling her to rest. She could feel the pomegranate blossom forming on her hand. Golden light flashed beneath her eyelids, and she managed to open them just long enough for a glimpse of Kuina as the struggling child momentarily lit up like an angel in confirmation of her chosen immortality. Helena hadn't known something like that would happen, but it brought her immense comfort to see some kind of outward manifestation.

Hades stood before her within the tank. He reached out both hands to her, placing another pomegranate blossom against her stomach. A token for her lost Telemachus, perhaps? This too brought her comfort. Of all the gods, Hades now appeared the most merciful. He alone had not abandoned the royal family in their final hour.

Her thoughts quieted. Her vision turned black.

She didn't see, or hear, or otherwise sense the sudden enormous tree root that smashed through her tank and all the tanks beside her, sending a wave of ocean water into the unsuspecting crowd. She didn't see the six agents of Cipher Pol 4 momentarily trapped, hand and foot, in a tangle of tree branches. And she didn't see Akainu, though powerful, super human, and unyielding, somehow caught completely by surprise as water from the broken fountain enveloped him. A cocoon of branches formed around him, trapping him within a large well of the sea water and leaving him paralyzed even as the rest of the water drained downhill from the plaza.

When she finally coughed the water from her lungs, she _did_ see General Hector standing over her in full tree mode, eyes wild with sylvan rage as his spear wreaked havoc on the marines in the plaza. Andromache leaned over her, apparently prepared to pump her chest some more. Astayanax likewise saw to her father, who had just taken a great gasp of air.

Another nursemaid, a priestess by the name of Epiphany, cradled the wailing Kuina against her. The rest of the unit soon surrounded her, cooing over her as they tried to calm her. One, an Amazonian spear-bearer named Camilla, removed her cape and wrapped the girl in it for warmth.

"Bring her to me," Helena choked. The unit complied, and Helena noticed for the first time that all their shackles had been removed, turned to pebbles by a girl from the captured crowd with stone coated hands.

She didn't have time to wonder how Raqueline du Agamemnon still lived. Helena simply hugged her daughter to her with tears of relief in her eyes.

"Mama, why you hurt my nose!" Kuina demanded. "Want Papa, you meanie."

Helena didn't answer.

"We don't have much time, your Majesty," Andromache informed her, taking a knife at last to Helena's twice-cursed sleeves. "What are your orders?"

Helena embraced her daughter the more tightly now that her arms had their full range back, then handed her over to the Lieutenant of the Nursemaid unit. "Code Black," she said, voice strong, commanding and steady despite an aching heart. "You know what you need to do."

Andromache nodded. In a matter of seconds, she, Astayanax, and the rest of the Nursemaid Unit had disappeared with Kuina in tow. Helena commanded her aching heart to be still. – this was quite probably the last she would see of her daughter, but it was for everyone's own good.

She turned to Hector, who had just cleared the plaza of marines and civilians alike, using a circular wall of wooden limbs to push everyone away from Akainu's woven imprisonment.

It had started to leak sea water. It wouldn't hold him for long.

However, in gathering Helena's official for execution, Akainu had set things up perfectly for her to hold a quick council of war.

"General, report," she barked.

"Robertus de Gloriadne has used his Ink Alpha power to teleport as many of the new recruits and Spathen Pikemen into the city," he replied from where he still towered in tree mode above her. "Most of them are fighting the malacoda now. He is the reason I am here."

"He's alive?" Helena sputtered. "Can he teleport the civilians out of here?"

Hector's great wooden head creaked as he shook it. "He is heavily injured, and the power is draining him quickly. I also have my doubts he'll be able to bring any more of our reserves here. It's quite a distance."

"What other options do we have? Do any of our Sea Prism units still stand?"

Achilles came to her side. "No, my queen," he replied, pounding a fist to his chest in salute. "Our heaviest hitting sea prism weapons have been sabotaged. Many of the armor and spears were also switched out for normal steel and iron."

"Diddy," Helena growled, but then went on. "Every soldier worth his salt should still have his own sea stone dagger at least."

"Aye, my queen," Achilles replied. "Those still work, but getting close enough to use them against a Shichibukai is a real trick. And then there's Mihawk…"

"Let me handle him," Helena said, mouth set in a grim line. She wasn't sure she was ready for a rematch, but it looked like one was coming whether she wanted it or not.

"With all due respect, Majesty," Hector cut in, "You've lost to him before."

Achilles, Raqueline, and the Lieutenants gasped. "So the rumor is true. It was Mihawk who gave you that scar," Raqueline observed.

Helena took a deep breath, then looked Hector in the eye. "I never said I needed to win this time, General," she said calmly.

"But Majesty, what of the God Powers?" Hector asked. "Surely your vendetta against the gods isn't worth…"

Cygnus sighed. "The gods have abandoned us, General," he put in, still pale and trembling from cold and blood loss. Helena had not forgotten his presence once through all of this, but her worry for her city took precedence, at least in this short moment they had to plan. "The Sybil is dead. We are completely outgunned without the gods and our sea prism."

"Are you suggesting we surrender?" Hector demanded.

"Not surrender," Helena corrected him, then turned her gaze to the rest of her military leaders. "Escape. We need a chance to regroup. Your orders are to get the civilians out and then flee."

Everyone but her father stared at her in surprise. She didn't have time to go on. "General, I need you to get my father to safety. He, Kuina, and I need to split up."

Before Hector could answer, they heard a loud hissing noise. Akainu's woven prison had started to steam.

"Hector," Helena said, looking him in the eye. "I wish to address my people one final time."

"Final?"

"The captain goes down with the ship, General," she told them all, getting to her feet. She drew her seastone dagger, cutting a slit into each side of her dress so she finally could take a proper stance. She kicked off her high heeled shoes and drew Peleus. "It's my fault we're in this mess. But don't worry. I prefer this by far to drowning like a criminal. I'll make sure they bleed for what they've done to my kingdom."

"But Majesty…"

" _Now,_ General," Helena insisted. "There isn't time."

Hector bit back a protest. Taking his great woven spear, he disengaged it from the forest of destruction around them. Helena knew he had crafted the great weapon himself, twisting different types of tree branches into it so that he had access to their various properties.

One branch he had included in particular, not for its strength or power, but for its symbolism. The laurel tree had always represented Ilium's royalty.

But the Pomegranate had always represented noble death.

Laurel and Pomegranate wrapped around Helena, pushing her up above the sylvan walls surrounding the circular execution square. Blossoms, lavender and crimson flew through the air, swirling with the embers of the burning city as the flames drew closer to the plaza from all sides.

Well, Hector always had had a nice flare for the dramatic.

Standing atop her woven, wooden platform, she could again see the crowd who had come to see her execution. They stood pressed against the outer walls of Hector's small forest, fighting the marines in their midst. The fighting stopped when they saw her, and a hush washed over all in time for her to speak.

"My people!" Helena cried. Her ruined golden dress, her crown, her chains caught the light of the conflagration, making her glow almost like she had once done when she'd donned Apollo's mask. Only this time she lacked the power to save them:

"Heed the words of your Queen!" she cried, "Do not expect the gods to save us. All but Death has abandoned the royal family now. The city has fallen, but Ilium will not, nor will she ever, so long as you draw breath! Ilium is not her walls, nor her palace. Ilium is her people! Forget her annals and groves, her history survives through you! Heed my last command! You are to flee. Flee to the countryside, to our neighboring islands, to the forest. Go wherever you need to go to survive, but survive."

She raised Peleus above her head, every muscle of her body tense with emotion. The same intensity found its way out of her mouth as she cried:

"I command you to live!"

The forest beneath her burst into flames, punctuating her command with instant fear. A moment later, the Fleet Admiral stood at her level, balanced atop a burning hill of lava.

"A fitting final speech, Your Majesty," he snarled. "I command _you_ to die!"


	11. Chapter 11 - Of Monsters, Mice and Men

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my husband, because kaijus and Redwall

side note: if you're wondering why hector can use solar beam, recall that the mangroves from the archipelago give light to fishman island. Said development in my research inspired the first part of this chapter. - also, if it seems a bit overpowered, remember that the mangrove that powers Fishman is called " Sunlight Eve" making it comparable to the Adam Tree.

Also, a mild cilantro warning.

* * *

Ch. 11 – Of Monsters, Mice and Men

The story ground to a halt at the sound of Luffy's grinding teeth. Helena looked at him, slightly alarmed. The last she had seen this kind of intense focus in the captain's face, it had been when she and Hector had sunk the _Going Merry_.

She was honestly surprised he'd stayed awake this long. Long exposition generally wasn't his thing. However, as Helena recalled, Akainu had been the one to kill Luffy's brother.

"He, um, didn't kill me, Luffy," Helena felt the need to point out.

Luffy didn't lose the intensity in his gaze.

"Actually, I didn't even get to fight him there in the plaza. Hector saw to that."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," Zoro put in. "He's not one to sit by and watch his queen take the fall."

"That insubordinate fool," Helena chortled. "He was determined to upstage me…"

* * *

It was a knee-jerk reaction. Hector hadn't intended to blatantly disobey his Queen's order. But Helena wasn't just his queen and superior. He and his wife had been given charge of the little princess since the day she was born; since the day their dear friend Leda, had died.

He'd watched Helena take her first steps. He'd been there for her first word. Zeus, he had _been_ her first word! – He'd watch her grow from the child obsessed with wooden swords, to the cheeky teenager who thought she was above the common soldiery. – Had agreed to draft her at fifteen, though well below the legal age, to show her humility after she'd made that god-forsaken vow to Athena. Andromache may have taught her swordsmanship, but he had taught her survival and strategy.

He had presided over every one of her duels, _including_ her fateful confrontations with Dracule Mihawk, and with Roronoa Zoro. – had watched her painful transformation from princess to queen, and from wife to mother. Through it all, he had offered love in the form of both encouragement and censure. Oh yes, he had helped her to fight more than just her physical battles through the years.

In short, she was a daughter to him. Here at the end of it all, he couldn't bear to watch her give her life when his would do.

The platform on which she stood sprung like a giant bear trap around her, encircling her in a cage of branches. Before she could turn her sword on her little prison, before Akainu could put his cataclysmic powers into effect, Hector swung her wide and launched her, cage and all, away from her attacker.

The Fleet Admiral had to duck as Hector swung his liege around like a great ball and chain. Straightening up now, he immediately turned his attention down to the General.

"Loyalty without reward," Akainu chided, then he chuckled as his fists glowed red hot in preparation for the fight to come. "How quaint. A tree trying to change the course of a volcano."

The General tightened his roots for all the good it would do him, and pulled at the only relatively fireproof branch in his spear. It was a recent acquisition, actually: a striped, resin coated branch of a Yarukiman Mangrove. He hadn't experimented with it much yet, but had discovered that the resin could offer some protection against flames; hopefully he could last long enough to allow the rest of the civilians to fight their way free.

As he bonded with the wood, allowing stripes to coat over him and his ironwood armor, he remembered the day he'd been promoted to General – the day Helena had seen him in his great, plumed helmet for the first time. She'd been nothing more than a babe, and had wailed at the sight of him until he removed it, revealing that he hadn't transformed into some strange monster.

She needed a monster now, though. A monster to fight a monster.

" _Monster King_ ," he pronounced in his great, deep voice.

He grew suddenly tall, tall like a yarukiman mangrove. He had never encountered a tree as sizeable or strong as this one before his visit to Saobody Archipelago. He hadn't had much practice using it yet either, and his sudden altitude took even him by surprise. Towering over the palace, over the plaza and Akainu, over the very city, his widening trunk indiscriminately shoved all combatant aside, not to mention completely destroyed what was left of the fountain and all of the surrounding buildings, including the front end of the palace.

Reveling in his newfound strength, Hector molded himself into a draconic form. Massive, muscled legs formed from his roots, balanced by a long tail. Smaller mangrove trees sprouted like spikes up along that tail and over his hunched, sinewy back. He flexed great, clawed arms, his spear all but swallowed up inside him now. All that remained of his armor was a king-sized version of the helmet, perched atop his snarling, reptilian face.

He caught sight of Akainu, who stared up at him momentarily paralyzed with awe from where he'd been thrown atop a crumbling building.

The mangrove had one major weakness. Unlike other trees, it drew its nutrients from ocean water, not soil. In that regard, Hector had strategically placed himself over the broken hydraulics of the salt water execution fountain. It wouldn't be enough to power him for long; certainly not at this size. Besides, the salt water made him sluggish, at odds with his devil fruit. He only had a moment, but he would make the moment count.

As long-time owner of the wood wood fruit, Hector knew to leave his spear, armor, and any other wood he kept on hand to soak up as much sunlight as possible. Even now, under the light of the moon, he could feel the solar energy especially stored up within the mangrove, which seemed to retain it better than most.

The spines along his back lit up with golden light, throwing a dawn-like pallor over the city. Hector drew in a great breath of ash choked air.

" _Queen's Wrath!"_

He roared, and a powerful beam of golden, sunlit energy shot into the admiral, blasting him straight through the rubble, through the ground and labyrinth beneath the city, deep, deep into the earth. Clean, pure oxygen shot out of Hector like a shockwave, so powerful and fast that though it flared some of the fires on the outskirts of the city, it put out the rest almost instantly. More importantly it allowed everyone a clean, nourishing breath of fresh air.

He threw back his great head in triumph. "Eleleu!" he roared.

"Eleleu!" his city roared back.

* * *

Helena shouted back the war cry with her people, tears streaming openly down her face now. Though she felt the universal renewal of energy her people had received from Hector's display, she knew as he did that it would take more than that to defeat Akainu.

Surrounded by the open wreckage of his protective pomegranate and laurel tree cage, she could see his giant, draconic form hunch over the pit he had created. He would not run. He would wait for the Fleet Admiral to resurface, and he would slow the magma storm to follow, giving others time to fulfill the Queen's last command.

Never mind that her command applied to him as well. Damn that fool.

Helena had landed just within the walls. Hector's aim had obviously been intentional, for she'd also landed near to the unit of Pikemen and new recruits that Robertus had transported in from Spathens. They were only three-hundred strong. Hardly enough to take back the city.

The leader of said group lowered his pike, which he had raised to shout the same war cry. He grinned broadly at her now, all bravado despite the situation.

"Hector always has to go over the top," he chuckled, successfully hiding any distress at their grim situation with good humor. "He just had to upstage you there, eh Presh?"

"You know, I'm not even mad," Helena replied with a shrug, his good humor somehow rubbing off on her. She even managed something of a smile at the old nickname. "Doing alright there, Polydorus?"

"Thatth CAPTAIN Polydoruth!" a toadlike, pot-bellied man beside Polydorus corrected, interrupting their conversation. Atop his pike waved the unit's standard; a long, grey pennant with a deep blue border. It had a variation of Ilium's ensign stitched in the middle – a diamond surrounded by a laurel crown.

"Harold, that's the Queen, thank you," Polydorus du Priam corrected, eyebrow twitching at the interruption. He'd always had a polite streak, even when at his most annoyed. Normal in build, if a bit over-developed through the shoulders, he resembled his brother Paris more than Hector, but without the vain attention to looks.

Turning back to Helena, he ran a hand through his middle-short hair, deep red like Bordeaux, not the chestnut brown of his brothers. – he had a grey stripe down the center of his head and in his sideburns, but it had nothing to do with his age, as he wasn't much older than Paris "My apologies, Majesty. That's Harold, our herald. He's new."

"Yeth, I'm Harold the herald. I'm new!" he repeated proudly.

"New? I suppose allowances could be made, then," Helena acknowledged, leveling her gaze with the squat standard bearer. He gulped uncomfortably. She turned her attention back to Polydorus. "Can you give me an update on our rat problem, Captain?"

Polydorus nodded. "In all honesty, we weren't making much headway; there are just too many of them. It's the fires that sent them into hiding. I presume they're about to make a comeback now that Hector's put a good portion of them out. Do you have new orders for us?"

"Yeth, have you new orderth?" Harold echoed.

Polydorus coughed. "We've been over this Harold. You don't need to echo everything I say, thank you."

Helena blinked at the completely inept herald, but then decided to ignore him. "You heard my little speech just now?"

Polydorus nodded. "Your last command has reached us out here, yes. Unfortunately, we can't obey it unless we see all the civilians to safety first."

"Yeth, thivilianth to thafety firtht!"

Helena ignored Harold again, and placed a hand on Polydorus' shoulder. There was a time, back when she'd been in his unit under Hector, that she would have had to reach up to do so. Now she had a few inches on him. "I expected no less. Your orders are to get my people out. Protect them at all costs."

Polydorus saluted, pounding one fist to his chest. "Tis an order to my liking, my Queen," he said.

"Death before dith-honor!" Harold lisped loudly, and the rest of the unit echoed him in salute.

"Death before dishonor!"

They showed no fear, but she knew that what she asked was at odds with her command. They wouldn't be able to get everyone out, which meant Polydorus and his three hundred would make their last stand here.

First Paris, soon Hector, next Polydorus. The Sons of Priam had all given Helena more than it was fair to ask. And all so willingly.

Polydorus must have seen something in her face. And he knew she wasn't asking him to give up more than she herself was doing. "Anyway, I can't be outdone by our Precious Princess, eh?" he added with a wink, trying to improve her humor. He spoke quietly so Harold wouldn't echo him.

Helena made a face at the nickname this time, about to retort, but something caught at the outskirts of her attention: someone flying toward her, ridiculously fast.

Calypso.

He was a blur, and still masked, but Helena knew him by the aura of rage alone. He had both machete at the ready. She barely drew Peleus in time to block him.

Polydorus had never been one to sit idly by. Though he didn't have Helena's reflexes or practice with observation haki, the moment he detected the intruder, he swung his pike wide. Calypso ducked, but the pike still connected with his enormous wooden mask, cracking it clean through.

Calypso shook himself free of the splintering mask, allowing it fall to the cobbles at his feet. With a snarl he turned his swords on Polydorus, but Helena shoved the pikeman aside, blocking Calypso with both Peleus and foot sword now.

"Stick to your orders!" Helena cried. "Leave this one to me!"

"But Majesty…!"

"But Majethty…!" Harold echoed.

Helena didn't have breath to waste on them anymore. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, something else soon caught Polydorus' attention.

Calypso hadn't gone after her alone. His partner rocketed after him, cheese shooting out of his feet from behind. Feta quickly ditched the Hestia mask he'd been wearing, which had filled with orange goo, threatening to drown him. The cheese trail brought a wave of rats in his wake, enticing more out of hiding by the second.

"This is our chance to cut off the source of the rats' control," Polydorus shouted, recognizing the opportunity for what it was as he turned his attention to the cheese man. "Pikemen of Spathens! Prepare yourselves!"

"Pikemen of Thpathenth! Prepare yourthelveth!" Harold the herald echoed in a shower of spit.

"Yes, thank you, Harold," Polydorus sighed.

"Quelle folie! Quels imbéciles! You think you survive against le Roi des Rats?" Feta cried, towering over them in an orange fountain of slime. "I'll make cheese of you! Go my pretties! Feed!"

He showered cheese down upon the pikemen, making them direct targets.

Polydorus' normally good-natured expression curled into a snarl. "King of the Rats, eh?" he said. "But what is a rat next to a badger?"

Hunching over, he put a zoan fruit into effect: Badger Badger fruit, version, Honey Badger. Wine red fur sprouted over his body, while the grey stripe grew to cover the top of his head and back. His teeth sharpened, his face lengthened, his fingers stretched into long digging claws. Still clutching his pike, he raised it high over his head:

"Eulalia!" he cried.

"Wrong book, thir," Harold corrected.

"Ah, yes, thank you Harold," Polydorus replied, then lifted his pike again. "Eleleu!"

Soon a heated battle was underway. If Helena had glanced toward Polydorus' unit she wouldn't have been able to see them anymore for the furry rodent wall now covering them. All she'd have seen was Polydorus and Feta, fighting pike, cheese and claw above the crowd.

She didn't have a glance to spare. Calypso swung at her too hard and fast. He hadn't landed a hit yet, but it was only a matter of time. And yet, perhaps there was a way she could beat him. Like Zoro, he needed a moment to ground his strongest attacks. If she kept close to him, kept him on his toes, perhaps she could find an opening.

It was wishful thinking at best, she knew. Calypso had once fought her without his swords drawn, had made a mockery of her in the Garden of Aphrodite by forcing her to dance when she wanted to fight. Now he wasn't distracted with flirting, wasn't toying with her. He wanted to slaughter her.

But what if she toyed with him instead?

"Hmm, you are a lot more intimidating when you don't say anything, Mr. Calypso," she observed honestly, then went on with more bite: "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Calypso's lip twitched. He swung at her hard, and she came close to having her rib cage sprung wide open. Fortunately, she managed to get out of the way. She'd left him a little too much space. She'd have to get closer.

"Why Mr. Calypso, no lewd remarks about my legs today?" she started, kicking a blade out at him from her slit dress. "I have to say, I'm disappointed. After all, I worked so hard to get them free just for you!"

She had drawn back a leg and made to skewer him. Calypso didn't respond except to parry. He swung his free sword at her, but this time she moved too quickly for him to put any height or power into the attack.

"I meant to tell you, Zoro had time to help me improve during our little trip," she added, "You know, between…other things."

She laughed as he growled at her between gritted teeth. Like a ballerina en point, Helena rose onto one of her swords, then flipped over him as he slashed at her unsuccessfully. She nicked off one of his dreadlocks as she went, and felt some satisfaction as it fell to his feet. Oh, yes, that made him _mad._

Time to press her luck.

" _Ode to Terpsichore - Odile!"_ she exclaimed, landing again en pointe. Pirouetting on the tip of her sword, she spun around him in a tight cyclone, catching him with small, piercing slashes from her other foot as she went, 32 _fouettes_ in all.

During their second honeymoon at the archipelago, Zoro had very thoughtfully – somewhat self-sacrificingly – suggested they go to the ballet. She hadn't been in years. He got a good nap out of it, of course, but some of the dancers' movements had inspired Helena with new fighting techniques, which had undoubtedly been his intention.

Helena finished the attack as though standing on a pair of stilts, balanced with Calypso directly beneath her. All she'd have to do was spring even an inch off the ground, pulling her legs together – an _assemble_. – and she would cut him to ribbons.

But Calypso had finally had it. She'd flustered him enough that she'd actually managed to land a few small cuts, but not many. Over the course of the attack, he had crossed his blades over his body for protection. In the pause while she jumped, he lashed outward with both blades at once, blackened by haki.

Her foot blades shattered and she fell.

So much for buzzing around the head of the bear.

* * *

Zoro winced internally, though he tried not to let it show on his face.

Helena hadn't exactly been giving them a full play by play of the battle, but she'd mentioned using her new technique against Calypso. While fast and impressive to look at, she hadn't perfected it before they'd parted, and it was woefully underpowered. She'd have been better off doing her old _Triumvirate of the Gods_ attack.

She had probably slowed down Calypso a bit with awe-factor at least; maybe that was it. Or perhaps she'd been feeling nihilistic and wanted a chance to try it in real combat before everything was over. From the way she described the events at the execution fountain, she'd had no intention of leaving Ilium alive.

Helena must have detected something in him, for she glanced his way, then quickly turned her gaze back to the other straw hats. Leaning back against the chair, she sighed, and discretely placed her hand over his where it rested beside her on the bench.

"I'm sorry. This is probably not all that important," she went on. "I think it's sufficient to know I faced a number of opponents far above my level, and in rapid succession."

"This Calypso guy," Usopp put in pensively, "He was stronger than you?"

Helena nodded. "By far," she admitted. "Zoro, would you say it is a fair assessment that he is at least as strong as you are?"

She squeezed his hand, perhaps trying to communicate that she didn't mean it as a slight toward him, that she was just trying to prepare the crew with the truth.

"I'm honestly not sure," Zoro admitted. "I don't think I ever saw a full display of his power, nor he of mine."

Helena blinked at him in surprise.

"Splitting the ocean down to its bed and causing tsunamis isn't a full display?!" she exclaimed.

"Zoro split the ocean in half?!" Luffy cried, eyes twinkling in excitement. "So cool!" Apparently they hadn't witnessed any fantastic displays like this from Zoro yet.

"No, Calypso did," Helena clarified, "Zoro caused the Tsunami. The two of them together were able to kick it back, but I think…"

"I could have knocked it back without his help," Zoro put in petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was about to say that, _Dear_ ," Helena added, chuckling. Then she leaned back again in the chair, running her fingers through her messy hair and staring up at the ceiling. "Gods. Why did I ever think I was something?" she asked no one in particular. "I should consider myself lucky I lost to Zoro, before I lost to someone like Calypso. I just honest to Zeus did not understand how wide the world is! – nor the reality of my miniscule place in it. True swordsmen are a real force of nature!"

"You are a true swordsman," Zoro felt the need to point out.

"Aw…" Robin said under her breath, but then he finished:

"…Just a weak-ass one."

Helena arched her eyebrows.

"WATCH IT, MOSS HEAD!" Sanji cut in, getting in Zoro's face. "Just 'cause she's your wife doesn't mean you can insult her in front of me!"

"You're flexible, disciplined, and creative, but not strong…" Zoro went on shamelessly, shoving Sanji aside, but keeping his attention on Helena.

"Zoro!" Nami chided.

"But you already knew that…" Zoro continued, ignoring her.

"Zoro-San, should you really speak to her like that?" Brook inquired.

"Which is why it's good you're here," Zoro concluded, crossing his arms over his chest again and nodding. "We can finally work on that."

Helena burst out laughing, It took a moment for her to speak. "It's a little late for that now," she pointed out, still chuckling despite her sad observation. "All the same, I'm glad you're still as blunt with me as ever, Zoro- _kun_."

"You like that he talks to you like that?!" the Straw Hats cried.

Helena shrugged. "Honesty is important in a relationship."

This woefully inadequate response didn't wipe the looks of shock off the crews' faces, but Usopp soon drew the conversation back to the task at hand.

"So this Calypso guy…" he brought up nervously again. "If he is seriously that strong, how are you not dead?"

Helena shrugged. "A pinch of luck, I think."

* * *

Two blades down and hurting from a face first tumble into the cobbles, Helena quickly flipped over to parry Calypso before he could slice her in half. It was a close call. She barely managed to lift Peleus in time to block him, but he came down so hard with both machete that her own blade pressed against her sternum. Her rapier bit into her, but she quickly turned it to the flat side before it cut her.

Then she remembered she was using Peleus. It shouldn't have been able to hurt her at all. Why had she felt the sting of the god-forged blade?

There wasn't time to think on the gods' betrayal further. Calypso's attack was crushing the air out of her.

At that moment, Helena happened to catch a breathless glimpse of the battle between Feta's rats and Polydorus' three hundred. Someone had wisely thought to smash one of the small aqueducts that ran near the walls of the city. The downpour had washed the pikemen free of cheese, which kept the mice from swarming as much. It left the men enough space to beat them back.

Polydorus fought Feta head on, and at least for the moment remained cheese free as he dodged the chef's attempts to smother him in goo. The captain couldn't land any particularly good hits because the cipher pol agent could harden his body somehow. It wasn't haki – it was some technique Helena had never seen before.

However, all Polydorus' dodging about meant that some of the cheese blasts splashed past Helena and Calypso's duel, forming great puddles on either side of them.

Calypso wore a sadistic grin as he pushed all his strength and energy into his blades. Why kill her quickly with a powerful attack when he could simply crush her where she lay?

Blinking back the darkness from her vision, Helena gripped at the shattered swords in her toes. Practically nothing but the hilts remained. Gazing blearily into Calypso's sadistic, azure eyes, she almost smirked.

How could he so easily forget that she was a four-sword style swordsman?

Kicking up one of her legs, she easily tangled one of her foot hilts into his dreads. With one good yank, she sent him stumbling backward…

…and straight into a misfired stream of cheese.

"Whad thuh-?!" he started, his speech still affected by his punctured tongue.

"Sacre bleu!" Feta cried as Calypso swiped cheese from his face.

All of the rats hissed in succession, turning from the pikemen toward him. Calypso's eyes went wide.

"Non non, my pretties!" Feta tried to protest, but that didn't stop the furry wall from advancing on his ally. "Here, I will help clean you off!" The idiot sprayed Calypso with more cheese.

"Whud awe you doin, you mowon?!" Calypso shrieked at him.

"Zut alors! Are you speaking through a mouthful of cheese?"`

"Yeth, are you thpeaking through cheethe?," Harold decided to put in. "You thound funny!"

"Yow won to tawk, mon."

"Are you making fun of my lithp?" Harold shot back.

"That's enough, thank you, Harold," Polydorus put in.

The rats had advanced uncomfortably close to Calypso now. Seeing the pikemens' strategy, he quickly vaulted over them and into the downpour of the aqueduct. When he thought himself clean, he stepped clear, only to discover that the rats had kept their noses turned toward him, their snake tails hissing in hungry anticipation.

The pikemen quickly backed away from him. He glared at them, at the rats, at Helena and Feta, trying to fathom why the rats were still so focused on him. His gaze slowly went upward and it dawned on him…

Though the cheese came clean of his clothes and body, it remained completely entrenched in his dreadlocks.

His gaze fell again toward the advancing hoard, lip and eye twitching, and he swore:

"Aw, cwap."


	12. Chapter 12 - Mihawk

A/N: So sorry it has taken me practically a month to get an update up. At least it's a long chapter, right? - There might be some mistakes in here. My sounding board (hubbs) was really tired, and fell asleep while I was reading it to him. I'm too eager to update to wait for him to wake up from his nap.

Hey, him falling asleep doesn't mean the chapter is boring! -we have a teething baby! We haven't slept!

* * *

Ch. 12 – Mihawk

Helena felt obliged to stop her tale when her husband burst into loud laughter.

"Bah ha ha ha! Oh, please tell me he had to cut off those stupid dreads after that!" he pleaded, a grin spreading across his face at long last. Helena chuckled.

"Those super cool dreads you mean?" she teased, and Zoro narrowed his gaze at her.

"Don't call them cool," he huffed.

Helena giggled. "Are you kidding? He is way too vain to cut his dreadlocks off. I mean, they're almost to his waist. They probably took a lifetime to grow!" she shrugged. "And like it or not, they are pretty cool, just not when they're smothered in cheese."

"Hmph, if you say so," Zoro grunted, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. "So, if he didn't cut them off, what happened to him?"

"Well, let's just say we have his vanity to thank for almost single-handedly dealing with our rat problem," Helena said. "Unlike a certain someone I know who would rather cut off his body parts than lose a battle," she nudged Zoro in the ribs, "Calypso allowed himself to become a malacoda magnet. He ran away from them through the streets, cutting down swaths of them as they attacked him." Helena giggled, then almost couldn't speak through her own amusement: "See, this made Feta mad, so he kept smothering Calypso in more and more cheese, which meant more and more kept attacking him. It was _beautiful."_

The Straw Hats joined in her laughter, but soon she sobered.

"You'd think that would have helped us gain back some footing," Helena continued. "And some of my people were foolish enough to think it meant we could take back the city. Polydorus and I wasted a lot of time convincing people to leave."

"You still had the marines and the schichibukai to worry about," Robin observed, and Helena nodded.

"I organized as many as would listen to help to get the injured out, and made it my mission to get as many access to the ships docked in the western port as possible. – I don't know if you all saw it while you were there. We don't keep most of our triremes in the bay where the sea prism mines are. – it makes them easy targets." Helena sighed. "I had Polydorus leading his small unit, Achilles leading my men, and Raqueline du Agamemnon leading her father's hired hands. Many brave civilians joined their swords to each of these groups, but it still wasn't enough. Not against the Schichibukai. Not with sabotaged sea prism weapons."

"Raqueline led her father's men?" Usopp asked in surprise. "She's, um, not exactly combat material."

Helena smiled wryly. "True. But seeing one's homeland go up in smoke has a way of building one's courage, I suppose. She led bravely."

"She must be pretty strong if she survived Diddy's assassination attempt," Usopp acknowledged.

"Diddy intentionally left her alive," Helena explained, brow furrowed pensively. "Raqueline told me she had been knocked out and tied up in her workshop. I don't know why Diddy saved her, but despite what Raqueline seems to think, I doubt her great grandmother was motivated by compassion, even if Raqueline was her favorite."

"An artist's respect toward an artist, perhaps?" Robin ventured.

Helena shook her head. "Many of Diddy's progeny were talented artisans," she pointed out. "But that's a mystery for another time. Suffice it, Raqueline, Achilles, Polydorus and I had our hands full. When our enemies saw that we were headed to the Western Port, many of the Schichibukai left off attacking the bay and focused their attention on stopping and destroying our ships. My people had to fight their way through the marines in the city, and then had the schichibukai and their crews to deal with on their way out.

"Fortunately, the Seven Warlords aren't exactly a well-coordinated team, nor do they seem completely loyal to the World Government. Occasionally they seemed to get in one another's way, but I think a few just didn't care if their targets escaped. Otherwise none of our ships would have gotten through.

"However, all of them seemed to have been given orders specifically to capture or kill the royal family. I met several of them face to face, and only managed to survive thanks to the chaos of battle. An explosion caused by Bartholomew Kuma tossed me up onto what remained of the western wall. I had only just started to recover when I ran into _him."_

She heard Zoro's breath catch beside her. By the looks on everyone's faces, they knew precisely who she meant.

* * *

Helena stared into the golden eyes of Dracule Mihawk, only about five sword lengths away. Bloodied and breathing hard from all the fighting, she held Peleus at rest between them, clutching it two-handed for the added strength she knew she would need.

Mihawk's sword remained in its sheath. – Come to think of it, aside from the initial attack on the palace, he hadn't done much of anything during the battle. She hadn't seen his signature, devastating slashes directed toward any of her civilians. Perhaps he had come up here for a better view of the battle, but he had yet to destroy any of her ships, though he was beyond capable from this vantage.

He regarded her through his usual, archaic expression. She resisted the urge to freeze under his intense stare.

"I had a feeling…I would…run into you again," she panted. "I had…just hoped I'd be ready…by then…"

"If you suspected as much, you should have trained harder," Mihawk observed calmly. "I attacked the palace merely to see if you would defend it. I was disappointed, Daughter of Leda."

Helena smirked. "I'm afraid I was a bit…tied up at the time," she pointed out.

"A feeble excuse."

"I know."

Mihawk slowly drew his infamous sword.

"Show me you are worthy to bear her name, Helena du Leda," he said, leveling it at her. "Defend what you love."

Helena took a deep breath and raised her mother's sword. Of all the moments she had stared death in the face that evening, this felt the most inviting. She knew Mihawk wouldn't be impressed with what she had to offer, but if she could die on his blade she could die with honor.

Before either could launch an attack, a familiar giggle caught Helena's attention. It was hardly loud enough to hear above the sounds of battle, or of the flames now raging afresh in the city below, but a mother would know it anywhere.

"Kuina?" Helena cried.

Just then, a little green-haired ball of bedraggled gold fluff dashed between the two combatants. She threw her arms around Mihawk's leg, so tiny she barely came above his knee.

"Kuina, what in Hades are you doing here?!" Helena cried, hardly attempting to stifle her anger or her language. "Where are your nursemaids?!"

Mihawk turned a pensive frown down to the child. He lifted his leg and attempted to shake her off with no effect.

"I yike you!" she informed him, fearlessly meeting his gaze. "You yike Papa!"

"What in Styx are you talking about?" Helena demanded. "He looks nothing like your father!"

"The Princess, I presume," Mihawk observed, regarding her with interest now. "That's an unusual hair color…"

He burst into pleasant laughter. Helena hadn't realized he was capable.

"So _Roronoa'_ s the lucky groom, eh?" he chortled. "I was right! I knew he'd be the one!"

Helena frowned peevishly. She knew Zoro had only been obeying the provisos, but it was a little irksome that in the two years he'd trained with Mihawk, her name hadn't come up. "Kuina, come away from him!"

Lowering his sword, Mihawk knelt to the princess' level. She tried to throw her arms about his neck, but he placed an impeding hand on her small shoulder.

"She detects my power," he informed Helena after a moment of searching the child's eyes. "She must have a natural penchant for haki. That is rare in one so young. You should expect great things from her."

"I always have," Helena replied without ire. "She is the daughter of kings. – Kuina, come here, please."

Kuina giggled again and finally turned to run to her mother's side. Helena lifted her onto her hip and raised her sword again. "Where were we?"

Mihawk blinked at her in surprise. "You intend to fight me like this?"

"You told me to protect what I love," Helena replied, brow furrowed beneath her crown. "Kuina has always made me stronger."

* * *

"You didn't seriously fight Mihawk with our daughter on your hip," Zoro interrupted incredulously. "Even I'm not that dumb."

Helena gave him an unamused look. "Oh really? And you fighting a hydra with Kuina riding piggy back was different?"

"I didn't have a choice! He was shooting fire balls at us!"

"Well, what did you expect _me_ to do? I couldn't turn my back on our duel, but I couldn't just let Kuina run around on a battlefield either. It was the safest option I could think of!"

"Safest option?" Zoro scoffed, "Where were Andromache and the other nursemaids?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Helena grumbled. "My guess is Cipher Pol had something to do with it…"

* * *

Earlier, Andromache made her way through the wrecked streets of Ilium with a bundle strapped to her back. Alone, she drew her enormous sword and turned to face a masked opponent. This one wore an enormous wooden helmet over her face, impersonating Athena, but Ann knew her by the belt of sewing tools about her waist.

Diddy.

"I had a feeling you had it in for Helena," the Lieutenant of the Nursemaid Unit observed, gaze narrowed. "You always blew off her requests for mobile clothing. You wanted to get her killed."

The Cipher Pol agent laughed, her older, drier voice confirming her identity. "Not really," she confessed. "I just wanted her to look fabulous. It's not my fault fashion didn't matter to her as much as function. The only true death trap was the dress I made her for tonight."

Diddy reached into her toolbelt, then flexed her hands. Ten needles suddenly lined her fingernails like claws.

"She'd have died beautifully if she hadn't cut those lousy slits in it," the seamstress went on. "Now she just looks trashy. Fitting, I suppose, given she is the most garbage ruler Ilium has ever seen."

Andromache's lip twitched, but she didn't bother with a response. She swung her enormous sword hard and fast, aiming to slash Diddy straight through the torso if the Cipher Pol agent hadn't disappeared suddenly.

If Dracule Andromache lacked her brother's strength and practice, she still had some of his natural born talent. She could sense her opponent, though had never learned to call this extra sense _haki_ , and managed to side step an attempt to jab five needles into her jugular.

Diddy disappeared again, and Andromache had to remain completely focused against the assassin's quick skill. This time more prepared, Helena's master managed to land a hit, striking Diddy through. The seamstress crumpled and fell.

…that should have chopped her in half.

"Thunder farts!" Andromache cursed. "I left the stupid child proofing on again!"

She pulled off the foam edge to her sword. Nursing bruised ribs, Diddy used the brief respite to access her toolbelt. Apparently realizing she would be safer attacking from a distance, she tied a ribbon to the handle of a rotary cutter and whipped the circular blade at the sword master.

Ann deflected it easily, batting the cutter aside

"Your attack style relies too much on surprise, old lady," she goaded.

A second, surprise blade came at Ann as she spoke; a quilting needle on a thread, almost undetectable. It had been aimed at her heart, but Ann side-stepped it and drew a sea stone dagger to slice the thread through.

"Come now, this is getting pathetic," Andromache goaded as Diddy drew a pair of long, sharp fabric shears. "Keep embarrassing yourself like this, and any victory of mine will just feel like elderly abuse."

A sudden rumbling split the air, and Andromache's attention caught on the enormous, striped tree monster crouched near the palace. A great volcanic eruption had rocketed straight through him, spraying skyward in a glowing red fountain from the plumes of his giant helmet. The wooden kaiju burst into flames.

Anyone near that enormous bonfire had to be dead. Waves of heat distorted the air, catching any wood remotely near the plaza on fire, including the Grove of Kings. Andromache could feel the searing air from where she stood.

"Hector…" she murmured, tears stinging her eyes from more than the heat.

Thus distracted, she didn't notice Diddy's incoming shears a moment later. The assassin dived for her back, and attacked the bundle, cutting the top open.

"What's this?!" Diddy shrieked, gazing inside the ruptured bundle. "The Princess isn't here!"

Andromache spun around, swinging her blade wide as she went. The spry old lady had already disappeared, however, and the enormous blade connected with nothing but air.

"A decoy," Diddy growled. "I should have known you wouldn't be the one to have her."

Andromache grinned. "That would have been too obvious. I'm the leader of the unit after all. – you'd have been better off attacking me directly with those shears."

Diddy holstered the weapon, highly affronted. "What kind of rube do you take me for?!" she cried. "I would never use my fabric sheers to cut anything but fabric!"

Andromache blinked at her in surprise, but then held her sword at the ready. "You'll regret not taking the opening, old lady!"

"I don't have time to waste with you, short stuff," Diddy countered. She disappeared again, only this time she didn't reappear. Andromache had sensed her as she dodged around her ready sword jetted away toward another nursemaid.

"Drat. She's headed toward Camilla. What I wouldn't give to have our transponder snails up and running."

After their near execution, the nursemaids had barely managed to find their weapons and formulate their ruse before splitting up. They hadn't been able to retrieve the mini transponders they usually carried to keep in touch with one another. It was probably for the best. Transponders could be tapped, after all.

"You can say that again."

Andromache whipped around to find her son, Astayanax. He had apparently thrown away his own decoy bundle. "I got attacked by Orpheus," he replied to her queried look. "He knows I don't have her, so he went to attack Camilla too."

So Cipher Pol had figured, as Andromache had, that her son would be the next most obvious choice in this little decoy ruse. Astayanax had always been Kuina's favorite after all.

Like her mother before her, Kuina had always gravitated toward the strong, masculine figures in her life. – or maybe it was because out of all the nursemaids, Ax had the cushy job of teaching her fun things, like songs, arts and crafts. They had almost hired Orpheus for the job – imagine! – but went with Ax, not for any musical prowess, but because he already knew of Kuina's existence. It seemed best to let as few people in on the secret as possible.

Anyway, because of his parents' relationship with the queen, the young soldier had already bonded with the child before the unit was assembled. And he loved his job. It was a sight watching the enormous young man try to cut through paper using a tiny pair of childproofed scissors.

"I think I saw Nysa's headed for Prue," he went on, "Wish we could warn them."

"We should go help," Ann remarked. "They're going to figure out which one of us has her soon enough, and she's going to need backup if she can't get her to the ships in time."

Ax flipped his tiny sea prism dagger about his hand, and gripped it tightly. "Right," he said, falling into step beside his mother as she sprinted off toward the Western Wall. "Hey, Mom…"

"Yes?"

"Is Dad…?" Astyanax started vulnerably, glancing at the enormous pillar of wood and flames that had once been his father.

"I don't know, Ax," she replied, trying to keep the warble from showing in her own voice. "Focus on the mission."

* * *

Prunella du Aeschylus had been Kuina's instructor in law and etiquette. Not that they had gotten much into the former yet; so far their lessons had consisted of pleases and thank yous, table manners and curtsies. As such, the middle-aged woman had coordinated with the palace party planner in recent days, discussing opportunities in which the princess would be expected to make an appearance and her expected behavior.

Prue glared through a pair of spectacles at the masked cipher pol agent now – her opponent wore the beaked mask of Hera, but had done nothing to hide her eclectic fashion sense. Despite her excellent planning skills, Nysa had always dressed in a chaotic mix of patterns and styles. – a tartan and a toga, for instance.

"I never did like you, Nysa," Prunella mused aloud in a deep, melodious voice. "You never took the time to be polite, did you? Always running to the next thing without so much as a how-do-you-do."

"Never time," Nysa bit back, reaching into her sporran.

"There is always time to be polite," Prue pointed out indignantly, slicking back a strand of her own greying hair that had fallen out of the pair of sleek buns perfectly perched on either side of her head.

It was no wonder the otherwise meticulous woman had a few strands of hair out of place. Her weapon, an enormous ball and chain flail, stood strapped by its handle to her back, allowing the giant, steel ball to swing back and forth just inches from the top of her head. It swung evenly over her part, right between the two buns.

The broad, slightly rotund woman resembled the weapon somewhat. She drew it from her back with meaty hands and, unlike their fearless leader, Prunella remembered to take the child proofing off it before swinging it around. With surprising speed and accuracy, she smashed it, first on one side of her, then on the other, leaving threatening craters in the cobbles beside her.

"Now hold still, if you please."

Despite Prunella's polite request, Nysa disappeared as she dodged the blow. She appeared moments later behind her. Pulling a knife from hammer space, she sliced the bundle from Prue's back and stashed it in her sporran before the nursemaid could react.

"Taking without permission? How insolent!" Prue cried. "Someone needs a time out!"

She spun the ball and chain around hard, but Nysa just stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry before she disappeared again.

"How rude," said Prue.

* * *

Camilla the Amazon had come to Ilium half a decade ago. She had served as a spearman under the Lieutenant prior to the need of a nursemaid unit, and had earned Andromache's trust in combat. She had specialized in the Princess' physical education and development.

The premature child had struggled at first, learning to walk and run. She had a warrior's spirit, however, and had quickly conquered her fear of falling, easily earning Camilla's respect. Like Mihawk, Camilla had noticed the child's capricious sense of haki, but had never thought to communicate as much to the queen. – mostly because she doubted her own perceptions in the haki department. She had never had much of a grasp of it herself, which had ultimately led to her leaving Amazon Lily in the first place.

She suspected the princess used this haki to compensate for some of her developmental shortfalls, but as she lacked a complete understanding of the mysterious power, she couldn't say for sure. Kuina just seemed to have remarkable eye sight and hearing for a premie. Perhaps she was simply a medical miracle.

Carrying her own bundle, Camilla had just about reached the bay when she noticed two masked cipher pol agents on her tail. – one wearing the Helmet of Athena, another wearing the Mask of Apollo. Diddy and Orpheus respectively. Camilla recognized the former by her toolbelt, and the later by the guitar strapped to his back.

She whipped around to face them, long, sable and violet box braids swirling around her dark face and fierce snarl as she spun her tree trunk of a spear and held it at the ready.

The agents stopped suddenly, though not out of fear for her weapon. A third agent, Nysa in the mask of Hera, incepted them.

"Princess, captured," she snapped at the other two, holding up her bag.

"What?!" Camilla cried, eyeing the sporran in confusion. How could Princess Kuina fit into such a tiny bag?

"Hmph, you sure you have her in that ugly purse of yours, Nysa?" Diddy snapped. "Most of them are carrying decoys, you know."

"Look!" Nysa snapped back, reaching into the bag and pulling out a cloth bundle.

Camilla's eyes widened in surprise. The child-sized bundle emerged easily from the tiny fur purse. "Return her at once, you two-faced jerks!" the warrior cried, charging them again. She focused on Nysa, but all three agents disappeared the moment she swung her spear.

Something struck her in the side a split second later. Five tiny blades; throwing daggers in the shape of musical notes. Fortunately, she wore Kevlar (another relic of not being able to use Haki on Maiden Isle) which stopped them from doing vital damage. She turned, lip twitching to face Orpheus, who had nocked another five blades into each of the strings of his guitar:

"Come on Camilla," he yawned. "At least make the fight interesting."

 _Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang!_ He released the blades one at a time. None of them stuck in her armor this time as she batted them aside with her huge spear. Unfortunately, this left her wide open to the other agents. They each tried to stab her with…a finger?

Her bullet proof armor stopped them short, and they each shrieked as they sprained their pointers.

"How could such a tacky vest stop my finger bullet?" Diddy screamed.

Camilla used their distraction to snatch the bundle back from Nysa.

"Don't worry; I've got you Princess," she cooed, pulling the cloth free of what should have been Kuina's face. She blinked at the decoy doll in its place and smirked, dropping it.

"I told you!" Diddy shrieked, still nursing her sprained finger. "I thought you were the meticulous one. You didn't think to check?"

Nysa shrugged.

"Well, we know this one doesn't have her, or she wouldn't have freaked out when she thought we did," Orpheus pointed out. "There's only one left! We need to get her before the Princess escapes!"

"I can't let you do that," Camilla started, but the three agents didn't spare her another glance before disappearing into the night.

* * *

En route to the final nursemaid, Nysa stopped her fellow agents on the wall, ditching her mask. With a freaky grin she reached into her purse yet again, only this time she pulled out the actual princess.

"What, you really got her?" Diddy exclaimed as she and Orpheus removed their masks as well. "Despite your love of mixed patterns, you're pretty competent. Why the charade?"

Orpheus yawned. "She was obviously throwing Camilla off our trail. They'll all think we're after the last one, but now we just need to leave the island with the princess."

"And _you're_ actually observant despite your perpetually vacuous expression," Diddy went on, impressed. "Which nursemaid had her, anyway? Astayanax? Prunella?"

Nysa shook her head, "Epiphany," she said.

Diddy stared at her as though expecting her to go on. When she didn't say anything more, Diddy prodded, "Epiphany about what?"

Orpheus yawned again and gave her a jaded look. "Epiphany is the nursemaid's name."

"Oh. Yes. I knew that," Diddy muttered. "Wait, isn't she the priestess? They gave her to the weakest of the five? Were they counting on their gods to protect her or something?"

"They knew she'd be the last one we'd check, more likely," Orpheus pointed out flatly yet again. "Can we get on with this? Today has been the single most awful day of my life. I need a nap."

Nysa nodded and went to stow their prize in her bag again. Unfortunately for them, Princess Kuina had had quite enough of being yanked around by grown ups that evening. She clamped down hard on Nysa's hand. The event planner hadn't planned for such an event, and dropped her in surprise.

Shaking free of the blanket bundle, Kuina bolted away from them. "WANT PAPA!" she shrieked, clutching her fox plush to her.

"AFTER THAT FABULOUSLY DRESSED CHILD!" Diddy commanded, and the three took off only to stop short when Astayanax and Andromache stood in their way, weapons drawn. Behind Hector's family, they could see the last nursemaid giving chase to Kuina.

"We'll cover you, Epiphany!" Andromache called back to a violet clad priestess.

"Alright, little Princess. Wait up for your Auntie Piffy! Ack!"

Though a woman in her prime, the final nursemaid suddenly face planted out of a dead run. A great flounce of dark, permed hair flopped over her face as her backside stuck straight into the air from where she lay in a graceless heep.

Cursing an old knee injury, she pushed herself upright, wiping dust from her vision. She had a single, silver strand framing her face, adding a note of wisdom to her keen eyes. Whipping out a crossbow as tall as she was, she gave it a flick and suddenly the weapon unfolded into a large, wooden walker. Using this to assist her, she continued her chase of the fleeing toddler, crying: "Come on, Kuina! I've got chocolate sandwich cookies! Your favorite!"

The inevitable clash between nursemaids and cipher pol stalled as they watched Epiphany hobble along ineffectively, calling out bribes in the form of sweets and cursing her bum knee under her breath.

"She seems pretty…underqualified," Orpheus noted.

"Who hired her, anyway?" Diddy inquired.

"Cygnus," Andromache and Astayanax said flatly at once.

"Ohhh," all three Cipher Pol Agents acknowledged. Cygnus had questionable taste in staff sometimes. After all, he had once hired Feta as a head chef.

"She's more than qualified, though!" Andromache defended.

"Really?" asked the Cipher Pol agents.

"Kuina needed a priestess for her religious education," Astayanax clarified, "Queen Helena's not too keen on that particular subject of late."

"She's also a professional cook," Ann put in. "Which helped us keep the princess properly fed while the palace staff couldn't know about her."

"And don't forget, she's in charge of story time," Ax reminded her.

The Cipher Pol agents nodded to one another. "Ah, yes, story time, very important," they said.

"There's also one other thing you should know about her," Ann put in with a smirk

"What's that?" Nysa asked.

"She's a really good shot," Ax said with a wicked grin.

Nysa, Diddy, and Orpheus had allowed themselves to become distracted by the conversation, and so hadn't noticed Epiphany turn her attention back to them, her walker temporarily back in crossbow mode. She fired a bolt the size of a small tree, catching the line of agents by the collars of their clothing, launching them off of the wall.

It wouldn't hold them for long. They were far too quick for that. The nursemaids had to act fast, but Kuina had just interrupted an important duel.

* * *

Helena glared at the World's Greatest Swordsman, her face deadly serious despite his incredulity. Clutching Kuina to her, she knew she had no choice but to survive this match, for her daughter's sake.

Mihawk didn't raise his blade. His mouth dropped open to retort when the priestess Epiphany suddenly dashed between them. She had stowed her walker in cross bow form on her back, and had her arms extended toward her charge.

"Kuina come here, you little…!" she started, then caught sight of Helena, "…angel?"

She seemed to realize Helena had her sword pointed toward an opponent, then glanced over her own shoulder to catch sight of Mihawk.

"Zeus Almighty!" she cursed, clutching her heart in shock. "You're Ann's brother! The scary swordsman guy! Oh man. I...love your hat!" she made finger guns at Mihawk, who glanced up at his hat introspectively.

She turned toward Helena again.

"Um…are you guys about to, um, duel? Can I just…?"

She took Kuina from Helena, who had one brow raised toward her, demanding an explanation without so many words.

"Sorry, Majesty, can't talk now. I've got at least three Cipher Pol agents after me right now." She eyed the sheaths that had once housed Helena's foot swords, which she wore buckled across her chest. Noticing they were empty, and that the Queen's foot blades were nowhere in sight, she pointed to them, "Hey, you aren't using those, right? May I…?"

Both of Helena's brows furrowed this time, but she quickly unbuckled and handed the nursemaid her sword sheaths. "I guess they're only slowing me down at this point anyway," she acknowledged.

"Great! Because I just had an epiphany," said Epiphany.

She drew one of her ballista-sized crossbow bolts and narrowed her eyes at it, sizing it up beside the princess. She handed Kuina some homemade chocolate sandwich cookies, which she always carried as bribery at any given time. "Be good, little one," she said, brushing a kiss on the child's head.

Using Helena's sheaths, she lashed Kuina – cookie, fox and all – to the bolt. Buckling the sheaths tight, she took aim toward the bay, and fired.

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…..!" the little princesss cried, her voice dopplering into the distance.

This dumbfounding escape left Helena and Mihawk at a loss for words.

Unfazed by the strangeness of her plan, Epiphany fist pumped, apparently satisfied with where Kuina had landed. Grinning, she turned back to the two swordsmen, gave them a nod irrespective of their shocked expressions, then took off back in the direction of Andromache and Astayanax. She faceplanted before getting too far and once again whipped out her walker, cursing her knee.

Mihawk watched her hobble along, his mouth half open in surprise. At last he turned back to Helena and raised his sword:

"I take back what I said," he said in a calm, flat tone. "Keep your expectations low. Your child will be lucky to survive to adulthood."


	13. Chapter 13 - Nefertari Leda

A/N: There is a famous scene in Virgil's Aeneid where the hero, Aeneas carries his father, Anchises on his back as they flee burning Troy. (If you happen to be looking at some roman pottery and see a dude carrying an older dude piggy back, that's Aeneas and Anchises). It is symbolic of the young carrying the history of their predecessors into the future. I was determined at the outset to have a moment of Helena carrying Cygnus on her back for a similar reason (maybe more like, carrying the guilt and mistakes of her predecessors), and boy did I have to fight and finagle to make it happen. I mean, Helena wasn't planning on leaving Ilium as you know, and Cygnus had plenty of other people to look after him. *shrug* I shoe horned it a bit, but I ain't turning back now!

I was able to whip this chapter out quickly because I have been sitting on this backstory for-freaking-ever. Some things did not come out as I anticipated. - Andromache kind of scared me, because she went totally rogue. Rogue characters take the story in different directions than intended, but I am ok with where she sent us so I let it stay. I also feel like we haven't gotten a terrible good feel for her character until now. She don't take crap from nobody, specially her little brother.

So you know, I anticipate this story being longer than The Straw Hats and the Iliad. It contains numerous arcs. We finish the Fall of Ilium Arc pretty much by the end of this chapter. We are about to embark on a sort of quest/growth arc that will basically explain what happened to Kuina and how Helena got to the Thousand Sunny. After that, we'll have some fun times with the Straw Hats, but I won't say much more than that.

* * *

Ch. 13 – Nefertari Leda

With Monster Hector destroyed and Akainu on the loose, it was only a matter of time before the city went up in flames again. Soon after Epiphany had launched Kuina away, Helena started to feel the searing heat from the inferno below her. In the distance, the last of her ships had left the western port. There hadn't been enough. Even as her civilians fled with their families aboard those ships, the marines and their schichibukai allies sank any that their attacks or artillery could reach.

There was nothing more Helena could do for any of them now. Any civilians remaining would have to flee past Olympus or into the forests and caves to the East. How long before the World Government hunted them down?

Spirits completely sunk, she turned back to Mihawk, fully expecting the fight to start in earnest. Her opponent contemplated her a moment over his raised blade, then shook his head and returned his sword to his sheath.

"I'm bored," he said flatly. "You are not the opponent I had hoped you would be. You have all of Leda's recklessness but none of her strength."

"We haven't even crossed blades!" Helena growled.

"Even my weakest strike would kill you in your current state," Mihawk observed casually. "Your daughter lit a fire in you, it's true, and perhaps in protecting her you might have shown me something new. But that fire has gone out of you now that you have given up."

Mihawk turned to leave.

"Wait!" Helena shouted at his back. He glanced over his shoulder at her, expression blank, unsympathetic. "Please. It's true, I have nothing left. Let me die a swordsman at least, I'm begging you."

He snorted. "Begging me to sully my blade? Shameful," he huffed. "You are not worthy of your husband's name. Or your mother's sword."

Helena gritted her teeth at the jab.

"I beg to differ, sir," a voice defended suddenly. "There is more to Helena than brute strength, something you swordsmen never seem to appreciate."

Helena's eyes popped open wide as her father appeared from one of the staircases leading to the top of the wall. Fearlessly he stepped into Mihawk's path, leaning on his sheathed sword.

"Papa! What are you doing here?"

"You put Hector in charge of protecting me," he reminded her. "A good thing too, or he might have stayed melded with that giant monstrosity long enough for Akainu to blast him."

He pointed over his shoulder to Hector, who sat resting in the staircase, which was one of the few portions of the wall not made of sea prism. Armorless, spearless, and covered in soot, he coughed, clearly at the end of his strength. Andromache leaned over him, her battle with Cipher Pol apparently over. She wept in both relief and fear as she tried to help her powerless husband drink from a canteen.

Cygnus left him in her care as he turned his attention back to Mihawk:

"You, sir, have caused my family enough grief without adding insult to injury. I'd appreciate it if you'd quit bullying my daughter."

"Cygnus," Mihawk said the name without affection. Then again, he mostly spoke without affection, so it was hard to tell, but he seemed to have a particular distaste for the ex-king. "I see you carry your sword now. Do you intend to challenge me too?"

Cygnus glared him in the eye. "Yes, though not with the blade," he retorted. He planted his sheathed sword point down in front of him instead of using it a crutch, lending himself a more regal air despite his currently bloodless face. "Even if I could match your strength, I am afraid without the gods approval, I can't draw this sword from its sheath. However, I would have a verbal riposte, sir."

"I am not interested in talking about the past," Mihawk countered.

"I believe you owe me as much," Cygnus snapped, "Considering Leda's actions have led us to where we are now."

Helena stared at him, leaning on her own sword now, exhausted from the night's endless battles. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you want to tell her, or shall I?" Cygnus asked, completely unintimidated by Mihawk's return glare. When Mihawk didn't respond, Cygnus went on, "So you don't want to own up to the fact that until the moment Helena was born, I was left to question the paternity of my child?"

"What?" Helena cried, turning her gaze on Mihawk. "You and Mother were lovers?"

Hawk-Eyes glanced her way, but didn't respond, his expression archaic as always.

"But I thought…" Helena turned back to her father, "You always spoke of mother so highly, I assumed you and she were…"

"In love? It was a bit one sided, I'm afraid," Cygnus confessed, voice shaking a bit with emotion now. "Oh, she was the whole package. Brains, beauty, spirit, strength. How could I not love her? But then, how could a woman of the sword love a pacifist like me? Particularly when she carried a torch for someone else?"

"Mihawk?" Helena spluttered.

The World's Greatest Swordsman didn't meet her gaze this time. He kept his eyes transfixed on her father.

"Her parents agreed to an arranged marriage when they found out she was in love with a _pirate_ ," Cygnus laughed at the irony. Mihawk didn't twitch. "At the time, there weren't many known advantages to marrying in to the line of Prometheus. Our wealth wasn't enough of an incentive what with our shaky footing with the World Government. But despite her beauty, Leda drove off most of her suitors with her wild, untamable nature. I was quite literally the Nefertari family's last resort, and my father had wanted to more firmly establish ties with outside kingdoms, particularly one as long standing as Alabasta.

"Back then, everyone believed that only blood heirs could use the God Powers. The royal family encouraged that belief, realizing the repercussions should one try to marry in solely to gain access. – Leda didn't care about that, though, did she? She was too lovesick and miserable not to take advantage of them."

"Mother used a god power too?" Helena gasped.

"We had been married about a year," he went on, "When she decided she just couldn't stand it any longer. She used the Mask of Dionysus to temporarily transform herself so she could sneak out of the kingdom undetected. And then she went in search of _you,_ sir.

"She refused to tell me what had happened, but when she returned several months later, she was obviously with child. She insisted the child was mine, but how could I be sure? Anyway, the damage had already been done. Word got out that she had managed to use a god power; the World Government assumed the child to be mine, and betrothal requests started pouring in. We brushed them off until Saint Rothbart paid us a visit.

"When he demanded that we betroth our unborn daughter to him, Leda literally, and quite bodily, threw him out on his ear. Broke his helmet, as I recall…"

Mihawk's lip twitched at this pronouncement. Cygnus too seemed amused by the memory, but neither man cracked a true smile.

"I don't need to tell you what her rough treatment of a Celestial Dragon led to."

In the pause to follow, Mihawk finally spoke. "Why are you telling me this? And in front of your daughter, no less."

"If I could avoid Helena's presence at this point I would, but I'm afraid I have to take the opportunity as it stands," Cygnus replied, glancing her way apologetically, before leveling his keen gaze back on Mihawk. "I tell you this so you will admit your culpability in all this, and to demand you make reparations."

"Reparations?" Mihawk scoffed.

"Yes," Cygnus asserted. "Helena's entire life has been one long battle for her own hand. She has done nothing but fight for her existence and the existence of her kingdom because of Leda's actions toward you. Now that her kingdom lays burning, I demand that you take her to a place of safety so that she can recover, and then that you bring her to her husband aboard the _Thousand Sunny._ "

Mihawk burst into laughter at this. Annoyed laughter. "Cygnus, you always were a manipulative prat," he retorted with an unpleasant scowl, "I'm not taking your failure of a daughter anywhere. I am not responsible for Leda's choices!"

"But…!" Cygnus started.

"Nothing happened between Leda and myself," Mihawk went on coldly. "When she came to seek me out, I told her that I had never been in love with her."

Cygnus blinked at him in surprise. "But before we were married, you tried to convince her to flee our engagement. I thought…"

"You thought wrong," Mihawk retorted. "I saw immense potential in her, and thought it a shame to see her talent wasted. Had she been allowed her freedom, _she_ would have the title of World's Greatest Swordsman, not me. And she'd have been the first woman to do so. – She was wasted on your kingdom, Cygnus, and wasted on you. Both of you," he glanced at Helena this time, before glaring again at Cygnus. "Leda was already pregnant by the time that she finally came to me; I told her to return to you, and that's that. Her sins are her own, and you will not force me to answer for them."

Helena stared at Mihawk's retreating back as he turned again to go, her mind awhirl with these new revelations. In particular, that her mother had revealed to the world that even those who married into the Line of Prometheus could use the god powers. Helena had never stopped to contemplate why the World Government had never attempted to force a marriage until her.

Defeated in their repartee, Cygnus watched Mihawk's retreat without saying a word. But the battle wasn't quite over.

"Cut the crap, Mihawk."

Andromache angrily tossed aside the empty canteen, leaving her unconscious husband in the stairwell. Obviously more temperamental than her brother, her emotions had clearly gone to their breaking point. She fearlessly placed herself in her brother's path.

"You're a coward and a liar, Mihawk, and I'm not going to let you just walk away like this, by Zeus."

"Oh, so you're even talking like them, now?" Mihawk observed scornfully. "Fully immersed, I see."

Andromache let out a chuff. "After twenty plus years of giving me the silent treatment, I would have thought you had something more intelligent to say."

"Out of my way, Andy," Mihawk countered, his hackles finally rising in a way Helena never would have believed possible before now. "We aren't dwelling on this anymore. What I told Cygnus was the truth."

"Oh, I don't doubt that nothing untoward happened between you and Leda," Andromache admitted. "But you _were_ in love with her, I know that for a fact."

Mihawk glowered at her. "So sure of that _now_ , are you?"

Andromache's face softened. "Yes," she said. "And if I had realized it back then I never would have encouraged her to marry Cygnus in the first place. I was her best friend, Mick, and she was so torn. Cygnus loved and respected her, that much was clear, but you always kept your feelings so close to the vest, how was I supposed to know? When she asked my advice, I had to tell her what I honestly believed."

Mihawk's lip twitched, but he bit back whatever retort he had in mind. Andromache went on:

"Of course, I didn't realize my mistake until you found out she had left to marry Cygnus. When you realized I had been the one to sway her opinion you…" Andromache's anger faltered a moment, but then reignited in full force: "Well, it was hard not to sense your disappointment. You turned your sword on me!"

Mihawk's gaze faltered. Though he naturally towered over her, he seemed to shrink a bit before his elder sister's ire. "I'm not proud of that…" he muttered, "But I won't apologize either. You're as much to blame for Leda's death as the rest of them!"

His eyes widened and he clamped his mouth closed as he realized he'd let his tongue slip.

"Me?" Andromache countered, her brow raised. "How am _I_ to blame exactly?"

Her brother kept his mouth tightly shut.

"I was there on the battlefield with her, Mick! And where were _you?"_ she snapped. "How dare you accuse me? - I was there when Akainu hit her with the fatal blow. She asked _me_ to cut her child from her womb before Hades could take them both. Then I fought to protect her daughter from that monster, Regent while still covered in _her_ blood, you bloody, blooming COWARD!"

Tears flowed freely down her face now.

"You have spent these years brooding and hating all of us, haven't you?" she realized suddenly. "You blame me for sending her to Ilium instead of sending her off with you! – and I bet you blame Cygnus for marrying her. For not being a fighter. For not using the God Powers quickly enough. – He crippled himself, and sacrificed a thousand of his most loyal soldiers to try and save her! And what of you! You couldn't even confess your feelings to her, and yet blame _me_ , you…!

She paused in her tirade only because another revelation had just hit her:

"You blame Helena for being born, don't you? – for being born and for not being _her!"_

Mihawk didn't say a word to defend himself, though his emotionless mask was starting to crack more and more with each accusation.

 _"_ Did it ever occur to you that Leda put _Helena_ in danger, not the other way around!" Andromache went on. "I've got news for you, brother. Helena didn't kill Leda. Cygnus and I didn't either. It was her own hubris, and the World bloody Government. _The same government you work for,_ you spineless…!"

"Enough!" Mihawk snapped. "You're putting words in my mouth…!"

"Just try to deny them!" Andromache snapped back.

"What do you want from me?" he snarled. "If you're asking me to save her…!"

"Oh, I'm asking more than that," Andromache interrupted. "I'm asking you to train her. Train Helena like you trained her husband."

Mihawk's gaze widened.

"You hate her because she didn't carry on Leda's ambition like you hoped she would," Ann observed, then went on to defend her, "Helena never _wanted_ to be the strongest, _just strong enough_. But she's a queen; she figured she could delegate. And she _did_ delegate - to her husband. Until now, that is. She no longer has a kingdom. She no longer has the responsibilities Leda always avoided. Make Helena into what she was meant to become."

For a moment, the roar of flames and the sounds of battle filled the silence that settled between them. Mihawk stared at his sister, completely at a loss for words. Cygnus smirked behind them, well aware that Andromache had likely succeeded where he had not.

"No," Helena put in calmly, and the quarreling siblings blinked at her in surprise as though they had forgotten she was there. "Ann, I had my chance at being a swordmaster, but that time has passed. I am going down with my kingdom, one way or another. It would be dishonorable for me to leave this island alive after I have caused its downfall."

Mihawk stared at her intently. –despite all the accusations flung at him, and at her mother, perhaps he was surprised that she would still take responsibility for her own actions rather than use him as a scape goat like the others had tried to.

Cygnus sighed and opened his mouth to lecture her, but faltered on his sword with the strain of blood loss. He'd been standing upright too long on his injured leg. Helena reached out to steady him.

A powerful voice interrupted them before they could speak further:

"What a noble sentiment," Akainu stepped onto the wall from a different stairwell. His heavy boots protected him from the sea prism, but it was a bold move, climbing the sea prism wall. "And one with which I fully agree. So it appears you have a sense of justice after all, Queen Helena _de Zoro_."

He simpered her married name with an amused lilt to his voice, just like he had at her near execution. Helena whipped around to face him, her mouth a grim line.

"Your Majesty!" Andromache put herself between them and Akainu, drawing her enormous sword, sans childproofing this time. "Take your father and run."

"Ann, no…!" Helena started.

"He can't walk right now," Andromache insisted. "You need to help him escape!"

"But, _you_ could…!" Helena attempted.

"I'M NOT LEAVING HECTOR," Andromache countered. "JUST GO."

Helena gritted her teeth, but finally did as she was bid. With her back sheaths now gone, she easily shouldered her father's weight. Carrying him piggyback, she turned to run, passing Mihawk as she went.

Arms crossed, the swordsman glanced at her sidelong while she passed him, his expressionless mask now firmly back in place. Before she'd run out of earshot, Helena heard him lecture his sister:

"Andy, don't be an idiot. You're no match for him…"

"Shut up, Mick!"

Helena blinked back tears, forcing her pounding feet to plow forward despite heartbreak upon heartbreak. "She'll be alright with Mihawk to back her up," she gasped to her father as she ran, trying to convince herself by saying it aloud.

Cygnus didn't respond except to hold her more tightly about the shoulders.

Helena tried again, more vulnerably. "He _will_ back her up…right?"

* * *

Andromache swallowed her fear. With her sharp features and sharper golden eyes, she did resemble Mihawk somewhat, especially when she drew her enormous sword. She possessed none of his sangfroid, however, and held her pixyish face in an angry scowl.

"I suppose such loyalty is to be expected," Sakasuki said, contemplating the short-tempered woman standing between him and the fleeing royals. "You're the one who tried to free the royal family from the balcony, aren't you? A warrior nursemaid. Andromache de Hector, friend to Leda, and surrogate mother to Queen Helena."

"Yes," Ann replied, "I am prepared to die for the crown; for _my family._ I know I can't beat you, but I can delay you, you monster."

With calm, even steps, Mihawk put himself between Andromache and Sakasuki. Ann's eyes widened, half daring to hope he'd come to her rescue. But when he drew his sword, he turned it toward her, not Akainu.

"Don't waste your time with this one, Fleet Admiral," he said calmly. "The royal family is getting away. Let me deal with her."

Akainu chuckled. "Big sword or not, this one doesn't really seem like she's worth your time, Hawk-Eyes," he said. "But you so rarely offer your help willingly, I'm not about to turn it down. Have fun."

He strode around her and took off. Andromache tried to swing at him as he went, but Mihawk protected him, blocking her.

"So you're really the government's dog through and through," she growled, tears stinging her eyes. Akainu had moved out of earshot by now, launching himself quickly toward his prize.

"When I answered the summons to attack Ilium, I anticipated an unpleasant reunion with my sister," Mihawk said calmly, then lowered his sword. "But I did not anticipate watching her die. You wouldn't last long enough against him to be useful, Andy."

"But Helena…!" Andromache started. She tried to follow after Akainu again, but Mihawk blocked both her path and her sword as she tried to force her way through. "DAMN YOU!" she screamed.

She pulled back and swung at him directly now, her sword style an obvious echo of his own, though she had to use both hands to move her blade. Single-handed, he blocked her, watching her through that judgey gaze of his. She knew he didn't think well of her swordsmanship now, or of how her emotions always got in her way, but he didn't say anything about it, and didn't attack her at his full strength.

"What would you understand of family, Mick? You're always doing everything alone!" she cried, pleaded really, frustrated tears falling freely down her face now. "Helena is the last any of us have of Leda now, don't you get it? And she is a daughter to me! I can't let her die!"

"Before you were a mother to her, or to your own son, you were a mother to me," Mihawk reminded her calmly. "Don't think I've forgotten."

Andromache took a step back, blinking back the tears. She did remember, of course. She had taken care of him after their parents had died. For many years, they'd only had each other. She hadn't forgotten, but for some reason she thought he had.

"I won't allow you to needlessly throw your life away," he went on, "Anyway, even if you could save her, you'd be doing her a disservice."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" she growled, leveling her sword at him again.

"She has lost the will to live," Mihawk informed her calmly. Completely unintimidated by her ready blade, he sheathed his sword, looking off in the direction Helena had fled. "I pity the Queen should she survive tonight."

"Shut up!" Andromache cried, lunging at him.

He side stepped the attack. Grabbing her by the wrist, he easily guided her blade away from his person. She tried to pull her arm free, but suddenly realized just how physically powerful he was when she couldn't break away. Her body and grip slackened at last, she bowed her head and let her sword clatter to the ground in defeat.

He released her, then blinked down at her in surprise. She had folded into his chest, weeping into him. He placed an arm around her and let her cry. "I'm sorry, Andy," he murmured.

* * *

"Helena, I'm sorry," Cygnus murmured, half a kilometer away.

"None of that now, Papa…" Helena started, keeping her concentrated gaze on the path ahead. She could see Polydorus not too far off, helping a group of civilians fight their way toward Olympus. If she could just get her father to him…!

"I won't get another chance," he retorted feebly. "You and your mother deserved so much better from me."

"No, Papa," Helena replied. "There's something I understand, now that I've heard Mother's story, and I think you need to understand it too."

She tightened her grip on him, her bare feet pounding along one of the few stretches of wall that still remained.

"I remember you used to tell me," she went on breathlessly, "That she went to fight because she thought no one else could defend the kingdom like she could. And maybe that was true in part. But if she was as much like me as everyone says she was, it was more than that. She didn't go to fight because you were weak, Papa. And she didn't go just because of pride."

The battle raged on to their left, the fires in the city raged on to their right. Ahead of her, a great storm seethed over Mount Olympus, shrouding all but the foot of it in dark cloud. Violent, violet thunder crackled within; the thunderstorm promised no rain, no relief from the flames. –just the wrath of Zeus.

Helena took it all in, feeling the repercussions of the thunder the closer she drew to Olympus; feeling the repercussions of her sins and shortcomings with the same clear, exquisite intensity of Apollo's Arrow:

"She went because she knew she was to blame, Papa. She was taking responsibility for her selfish actions," Helena said with feeling, "Everyone always said I'd meet an end like hers one day. I inherited her pride, just as I inherited her sword, and I will answer for it, atone, even, if I can. But _you_ are not to blame, understand? You have tried to teach not just me, but all of Ilium peace and prosperity, patience and refinement, piety, selflessness, and word over sword. The kingdom never would have fallen if I had not taken the crown from you."

"Helena…" he murmured, and she could feel his tears watering her shoulder. "Please don't take this burden all on yourself."

Just what else did he think her chains of office represented?

A great meteor of fire and lava flew overhead, landing directly in front of them, melting several feet of the path. Half molten, Akainu soon landed on top of it, protected by the barrier of lava between himself and the wall.

Helena quickly lay her father against a nearby battlement, placing his useless sword within his grasp. He took it feebly, his face ashen and covered in tears. Though she had trained him in swordsmanship, he'd never been a physically powerful man. The wound Calypso had given him, the blood loss, the near execution and resuscitation, his age and the emotional overload had all caught up with him now, and he lay against the wall, completely spent.

The Queen of Ilium whipped around to face her foe, adrenaline giving her a second wind. – or perhaps a third or fourth, or hundredth, after the night she'd had. She drew Peleus and tried to force her spirit into it the way Zoro had tried teach her.

A black sheen teased its way over the sword's finish, but blinked away. All the same she lunged at Akainu, shoving Peleus into him with one arm, swiping at him with her sea stone dagger with the other.

His lava flesh dodged easily around the dagger, though he allowed Peleus to pierce him through. Her no longer god-favored blade melted instantly, and when she drew back, she had nothing left but a few inches of steel.

He backhanded her degradingly, his hand mostly human, but just hot enough to burn. She gripped at the burn on her face, blinking back hot tears of pain.

"It's a pity," he simpered. "Even at the point of giving birth, she was so much stronger than you."

Straightening up, Helena spat at his feet, letting it sizzle. He grinned at her pluck, and grabbed her about the throat with his cooled off hand, raising her to his eye level.

"No…" her father croaked.

"Don't worry, Cygnus. I'll get to you soon enough," Akainu replied, though he didn't turn his smoldering gaze from his prey.

His hand warmed around her throat. She could see Hades on the edges of her blackening vision as she gasped for air. In moments it would be over.

A comet of white-hot light streaked through Akainu's arm, freeing Helena before he incinerated her. Gasping for breath, she stared as the ex-Cipher Pol agent, Gloriadne crashed into one of the battlements lining the top of the wall. She lay weakly among the sea prism rubble she had created, covered in wounds from her past battle with Bags.

She had dropped her husband onto the wall before her crash landing. With his thin-soled dancing shoes as the only protection against the sea prism of the wall, he staggered toward Helena, holding a hand out in front of him. His palm had a paw print on it.

"Your Majesty," he heaved, all the color gone from his face as he faltered on weakened limbs. "If you could go anywhere…where would you go?"

"What are you talking about?" she gasped, rubbing her throat, "Robertus…?"

"I have instructions…to get you to safety," he managed, "I'm not…completely sure…how this power works. Just…alpha'd it. But I know enough…to know…it'll send you…where you need to be…"

"Don't…!" Helena started. Her mind a whirl. If she could go anywhere, she'd go where she could have prevented any of this from happening. Where she could have been stronger.

She didn't say as much aloud, but her old dance master seemed to know. He staggered the last few feet into her, smacking her with his paw.

"NO!" Akainu shouted. But his voice disappeared in the sudden distance between them. The last thing Helena remembered before she flew out of sight was Robertus turning his paw on an angry Akainu. He burned his hand, but the Admiral vanished.

Robertus would have immediately lost the Paw Paw power then, and turned into a magma man, so perhaps the burn wouldn't affect him too badly. Helena couldn't know for sure.

Helplessly, angrily, she flew away from her ruined home, and toward the unknown.

* * *

The following evening, Dracule Mihawk entered his empty castle with slow, weary steps. Hanging up his sword in its usual place, he soon found himself at his dining table with a good bottle of wine and a clean glass. Setting the glass down, he uncorked the wine, contemplated it, then leaned back in his chair and sighed, putting his feet up.

He took a swig straight from the bottle.

If his old protégé had seen it, he'd surely have said something snarky. Mihawk had often given Roronoa a hard time about his lack of refinement. But at the moment, he didn't really care. With Perona off in search of Moria, and Roronoa reunited with his crew, Mihawk was just glad to have the island back to himself at the moment.

A few swigs later, he'd just started to get comfortable when he noticed a loud ruckus coming from the garden. The humandrills were going crazy! After a moment of listening to them screech, he decided that if he wanted any peace that evening, he'd have to go shut them up.

With the bottle of wine in one hand, his sword in the other, he staggered to the back door and shoved it open. What he saw made his mouth drop open:

"Darn it, Andy!" he cursed as though it were his sister's fault.

For there in his garden, a crater like an enormous paw print had wreaked havoc on his geraniums. In its center and surrounded by screeching humandrills lay the unconscious Helena du Leda, fallen Queen of Ilium.

* * *

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A/N: Guys. Helena wasn't supposed to go to Gloom Island. She was supposed to go learn more about Haki at Amazon Lily. After Andromache's dramatic speech, it just felt wrong NOT to send her to Mihawk though, and we can probably gain a bit more insight into Leda with him. I just want to know if you think this feels too contrived/mirrors Zoro's journey too closely. I can easily change the last scene here.

Your thoughts and reviews are much appreciated on this crucial chapter. Information we learned here is going to become important throughout the story. I want to be sure it all makes sense.


	14. Chapter 14 - Kina the Amazon

A/N: Really short chapter this update. Hopefully this helps lighten the mood.

Thanks for all the feedback. I've been having a lot of fun going down the mihawk path, though it's thrown off a lot of my plans. See the swordsmanship stuff he could teach her was stuff I was hoping to have Zoro help her with. But it's ok, Mihawk/Helena interactions are delightfully awkward and fun to write. It would seem this route is actually going to be a heckuva lot less angsty than my original plan. I think we've had enough angst for a while, don't you?

Also, I know I'm super inconsistent with Kuina's toddler accent. Chalk it up to different people understanding her better/worse? I 'unno, I got nothing.

* * *

Ch. 14 – Kina the Amazon

Before Ilium's fall was complete, the bolt to which Princess Kuina had been strapped flew straight and true toward the southern bay. It jolted Camilla as it struck the spear strapped upright to her back. Quickly retrieving the arrow, the Amazonian recognized her fellow nursemaid's artillery and marksmanship almost instantly. And she knew immediately why Kuina had been shot her way.

The initial decoy plan had been intended to get Kuina onto one of the ships at the western port. The more the night progressed, the more it seemed that those ships were no longer an option with all the fighting happening on and outside the western wall. This meant they had three options – take Kuina northward, over Mt. Olympus and into the rural villages behind it, take her through the forest to the east toward Spathens, or take her south out of the sea prism bay.

Spathens and Olympus weren't really feasible. Not in the time crunch they had. – Camilla currently stood south, in the ruins of Mycenae. Clutching the cookie-munching princess to her, bolt and all, Camilla weighed her options.

Unfortunately, the only ships that hadn't been completely destroyed in the port belonged to marines and schichibukai, protected by a regiment of marines. The leader of which, a man named Captain Kumonga, had just spotted her and her charge.

"Surrender the Princess and neither you or she will be harmed," he called to her. He had a spindly black mustache that twitched when he talked. It had been combed and waxed to have eight separate strands that reached down past his cheeks. He had dyed yellow kinks in it to look like the joints of a spider's legs.

"Don't try to lie to me, marine," Camilla snapped, drawing her spear. She put the enormous crossbow bolt point down into her spear holster, effectively holding Kuina upright on her back and freeing her own arms to fight. "Even if I surrendered her, you would just execute her or lock her up to rot, sickos. She's only a child!"

Kumonga twitched his mustache, but had no retort for this. He signaled his men to raise their weapons, but raised none himself. Instead, he grew and sprouted four more limbs, black and yellow like his mustache. More eyes sprouted on his face. Pincers poked out from under his lip fuzz. Bristles sprouted all over his body.

So he had some kind of tarantula devil fruit. Peachy.

"Now now, Camilla, let's be reasonable here," a familiar voice put in behind her, "You know that of the immortal royals, it would benefit the World Government most for young Kuina to be the one to survive. Why do you think Cipher Pol's put most of its focus on her? – Now, hand her over, and we'll make sure she is well looked after, like it's our job."

Camilla shot a glare over her shoulder. "You're the last person I would ever trust, Bags. I'm not letting you anywhere near her."

"It's rude of you to even suggest it," another voice put in. Prunella pounded her flail into the beach of the sand for emphasis, taking a stand beside her fellow nursemaid. "I think it's about time someone put you in your place. There are few things more impolite than betrayal, scum."

Prunella charged Bags while Camilla focused her attention on the marines. Using her spear to vault over the sudden wall of gunfire from Kumonga's men, she went straight for their captain. He spit a web at her from his mouth, catching her legs as she went. Still airborn, she drew her sea prism dagger and threw it hard so that it struck the devil in one of his many eyes.

Screaming and flailing his many limbs, he fell into the sand. Unfortunately, with her legs now bound, Camilla wasn't much better off. She stumbled where she landed, making sure to fall face forward so as not to injure the Princess.

She had to turn quickly to shield Kuina from the enemy guns, though they actually held their fire when they realized they had a child between them and their target. Perhaps they had some scruples after all.

As Camilla struggled to free her feet, Prue appeared by her side, Bags on her tail. Swinging her ball and chain wide over both of them, she knocked a clean circle around them, actually managing to bludgeon the chief of Cipher Pol 4. The ball didn't do much damage to him, but at least it pushed him back.

Feet now mostly free of the sticky web, Camilla struggled upright. She knew without a doubt that she and Prunella would be captured or killed at this rate. There were just too many of them. Though she could see Astyanax and Epiphany making their way across the beach to back them up, they had come in pursuit of Orpheus, Nysa, and Diddy, who had likely followed the princess here. The other nursemaids would do little to even the odds.

Camilla called for Prue to cover her. Retrieving Kuina from her back, the Amazon shot the Princess a reassuring smile. The girl had finished her cookies by now, and clutched her fox to her, her eyes wide and confused.

"It's going to be alright, Princess," she reassured her. "I'm sending you to a place full of beautiful, strong people who will respect your warrior's spirit. You don't need to be scared."

"Want Papa," Kuina insisted.

"Sorry," Camilla murmured, both to Kuina and to the distant Sun Queen. "We really tried." Praying that no one was paying attention in the confusion of battle, she drew back her muscular, battle hardened arms, and hurled the bolt as though it were her spear.

It landed in the safest place Camilla could think of; aboard the ship of the Kuja pirates. After all, Boa Hancock was the most beautiful, compassionate, perfect ruler to have ever lived. Still a faithful Amazon through and through, Camilla didn't once doubt that Hancock would welcome the princess with open arms.

* * *

Hancock held the giggling toddler over the side of her ship by the ankle. It had been a long night, and she didn't have patience to spare for stowaways.

"Wait, Big Sister!" Marigold cried, "She's just a child!"

"Not to mention the daughter of the Sun Queen of Ilium!" Sandersonia put in.

"I can see that," Hancock snapped.

"The World Government will want her!" they pointed out.

"So she's something to them, but nothing to me," Hancock retorted. Without further ado, she released the child, letting her fall to the ocean's mercy. "Anyway, even if I toss her overboard you will forgive me because I. Am. Beautiful!"

She tried to use her beautiful face on the crew, but Marigold cut her short when she pointed out:

"But she's also the daughter of one of the Straw Hats!"

Hancock's selective hearing filtered out a few words. With a beautiful shriek she jumped over the railing to rescue the girl now caught in the waves.

"Princess!" her crew cried in unison. Several of the Kuja jumped after her, and soon they had her and the water-logged toddler back on board.

Breathing hard and clutching a towel that someone had proffered her around her shoulders, Hancock stared at the dripping, shivering child, who stared back at her with sparkling eyes:

"You reawwy pwetty," she said, hardly blinking as one of the crew started to towel her dry.

"Your father is a pirate?" Hancock asked her, ignoring this not unexpected praise.

Kuina nodded. "Papa reawwy stwong piwate," she confirmed, clutching her soaking fox plush to her.

Hancock fell back in a near faint. "How could he do this to me?" she cried in agony.

"Sister, we said the Sun Queen was married to _A_ Straw Hat, not _THE_ Straw Hat," Mari tried to reassure her. "Considering the Princess' hair color, it's probably safe to assume that her father is…"

"WAIT!" Hancock cried, sitting upright suddenly again, knocking over the crew members who had been leaning over her in concern. "The Sun Queen was just killed, wasn't she?"

"Well, that hasn't been confirmed…" Sonia started.

"And if she's dead, that means that Luffy is single again," she concluded. "And the quickest way to his heart would be through…"

"His stomache…?" Mari reminded her.

"…his daughter!" Hancock cried, pounding a hand into her palm. She turned her gaze back on the toddler. "I will be her mother now!"

"Reawwy?" the child asked, her eyes growing even more wide and awestruck. Though innocent, she could do nothing in the face of Hancock's entrancing beauty.

"Would you like that, little one?" Hancock asked her, smiling winningly at the spell-bound babe. "You could have as many sweets as you want, stay up as late as you want. I'll get you far better toys than this one," she tried to pry the fox plush from the toddler's arms, but despite her still awestruck gaze, the little princess' grip tightened around it.

"Papa give me," she said.

"In that case, he needs a crown," Hancock amended, snapping her fingers. Someone produced a small coronet and placed it on the fox plush's head. "Now, what is your name, little one?"

"Kina," she replied, still not fully able to pronounce it. She made a charming little curtsey, impressively polite for one so young.

"Princess Kina," Hancock repeated. "I am Boa Hancock, but from now on you will call me Mo—"

"Hammock?" 'Kina' asked, and Hancock thought she might faint. It must be fate, if Luffy's daughter should call her the same name that he always had:

"Yes, Hammock. Call me Hammock!"


	15. Chapter 15 - Pride and Prejudice

A/N: So, guess who has finally worked up a bit of a buffer! This girl!

Ok, so it's not much of a buffer, but this chapter was done around the same time as last week's update. Next chapter is at least half written. Booyah!

I wanted to make a quick shout out to the excellent Dragoscilvio, who has come up with a BRILLIANT idea for a One Piece fic. If you're a fan of Kingdom Hearts, imagine Zoro wielding 3 keyblades. Now go and read her new fic Dreamer's Destiny. So much fun! - Dragoscilvio is a frequent commentor, so you can find her in my review section if you'd like a link. I've also favorited the story.

Final Note, please read King Bouffant's lines like _Him_ from the Power Puff Girls.

* * *

Ch. 15 – Pride and Prejudice

At Navy Headquarters, Captain Coby greeted the mail coo with a smile on his face. Taking the proffered paper from its beak, he paid it cheerfully and sent it on its way. The smile vanished the moment he lowered his glasses and saw the front page.

"Like, breakfast's ready, Captain. If you don't hurry, they're going to start eating without you," a girl with cropped, red-orange hair said as she approached him. Once covered in piercings and sporting a rainbow of hair dye, Coby's new sous chef had decided without prompting to try for a cleaner cut, more mature look. She had yet to completely lose her childish manner of speaking though. "Oh em gee, is that the news coo? We get it earlier here on the Red Line!"

She took a step back in alarm when she saw the intense expression molding his brow. As he tore into the newspaper to find the rest of the story, a loose leaf fell to the ground at the captain's feet. A wanted poster.

The navy sous chef lifted it with dread on her face and gasped aloud. "But…but that's the Sun Queen."

Angry tears threatened to spill from the corner of Coby's eyes as he handed her the newspaper. In a matter of moments, she wept more openly than her captain, her hand over her mouth:

"But isn't this, like, the country we just helped save?" she sniffled. "I thought you got promoted over this."

"The promotion was because I saved _our_ people, Nausicaa-San, not the other side," Coby pointed out. He didn't say it aloud, but he couldn't help but notice that his new promotion as Captain of Navy Head Quarters left him stationary. They couldn't call him in to Ilium again like they had before.

"It doesn't say anything about the princess," Nausicaa noticed. "Do you think she's alright?"

"We have no way of knowing," Coby replied, turning away from her. "Tell them to start the meal without me. I think I've lost my appetite."

* * *

"Papa!"

Princess Vivi dashed into her father's study, an envelope in hand, to see King Cobra still pouring over the paper.

"This is horrible," he moaned for the umpteenth time that morning. "It says they've capture Cygnus. And your cousin is MIA, presumed dead, yet they have a wanted poster for her."

"It gets worse," Vivi added grimly. "This just arrived."

The Navy's seal hung hap-hazardly off of the envelope that Vivi had already torn into. She handed it to her father and he deftly slid out the notice within. His dangerous eyes constricted with rage as they took in its contents:

"It says we could have refugees headed this way," Vivi repeated needlessly, still processing the information herself. "And that we are to turn them away for the 'safety' of the kingdom. How can we possibly do something so horrible to Helena-chan's people?"

Cobra crumpled the notice in his hand. "We can't," he said matter-of-factly. "My sister gave her life protecting Ilium. That alliance was sealed with her blood."

"But what can we possibly do?" Vivi pointed out in despair. "If we openly disobey this order, our own people could suffer!"

"It's a good thing that a certain rebel leader is a particular friend," Cobra pointed out. "Do you think Koza can help us with this?"

"I'll talk to him," Vivi said, nodding pensively. "Maybe there's something we can work out under the radar. After all, it's not like we can totally control the rebels' movements." She winked at her father knowingly.

"But where to put them, assuming they come," Cobra pondered aloud.

"There are still plenty of places Crocodile left desolate in the more central parts of the country," Vivi put in. She immediately thought of Toto and the Oasis he had successfully dug free. Though it had water now, it remained a ghost town but for the determined old man. People had been too afraid to move back in. But perhaps an outside group without her peoples' superstitions…

"I know just where we can put them," the kind-hearted princess declared.

* * *

King Bouffant of the Island of Macaroni gave a snarl, his enormous wig teetering precariously on his head. "More notices?" he trilled in an angry squeak, taking the message his only daughter offered him. "I've already turned away three boats of refugees just today and sent the navy after them. It's not even lunch time yet! What more does the World Government want?"

His daughter, Princess Antoinette looked at him apologetically, her tiny face dwarfed by her own enormous wig. She was only thirteen, and more timid than the princess of Alabasta. She hadn't thought to open the message before handing it to her father.

She knew he had good reason to be annoyed. Two of her older brothers, Pompadour and Popinjay had both died in Ilium only a few weeks ago. She mourned their loss, but more than that, her father mourned the lost opportunity to win a piece of Ilium's prosperity. The World Government would lay claim to the everything now.

As he read through the latest message, however, a smile spread across his powdered face, lifting the heart-shaped beauty mark on his cheek. "Oh, now that's better," he tittered.

"What does it say father?"

Antoinette hadn't dared to ask. The question came from her oldest brother, Prince Macaroon.

At first glance, one wouldn't think they were related. Though his father and sister wore ridiculously oversized wigs and silk clothing, powdered makeup and heels, he wore a simple great coat and boots, and not a spot of makeup. If he could get away without wearing a wig at all he would, but to appease the law he wore a white-powdered ponytail under an unremarkable tri-cornered hat.

Having had more sense than his younger brothers, he hadn't gone to court the neighboring queen when they had. The news that they had been slain had not surprised him when at last it came; time and again he had begged them to come home, but they wouldn't listen.

King Bouffant grinned at him. "Oh, something a big softy like you will love, Rooney. Or At least partially. They say that the Navy will be returning the three refugee ships I turned away to our shores."

Rooney's eyes narrowed. "Why would _you_ be happy about something like that?" he asked.

"Well, we and any of the kingdoms that lost our sons to that massacre in Ilium's hall are being given compensation," he went on, a sadistic gleam in his eye. "Any refugees that come to our shore are to be considered a gift."

"A gift?" Prince Macaroon asked. "Father, you don't mean…"

"Free help," Bouffant trilled.

"Slaves," Macaroon translated. "Father, you can't. This won't end well."

"Rooney, don't…" Antoinette begged almost inaudibly, but Macaroon didn't drop his father's gaze.

"Defying me again, boy?" Bouffant snipped.

"You already tax our people to the bone!" the prince cried. "What more cheap labor could you possibly want?"

"Precisely. This should offer our people some relief from there burdens, wouldn't you say?"

"I won't let you do this," Macaroon snapped, balling his fists. "You selfish, pompous, cowardly…"

"That's enough out of you," Bouffant shrieked, striking his son across the face. "Guards, get him out of my sight. In fact, if he loves defending the foreigners so much, he can _join_ them."

Macaroon's eyes widened in alarm, but it was too late. He'd pushed his father's buttons one too many times. It didn't help that as the one voice of reason in Bouffant's court, he had always been infuriatingly right about everything he warned against.

Helplessly Antoinette watched the guards drag her brother away, but all she could do was hide behind her fan and cry.

* * *

Aboard the Thousand Sunny, Luffy silently took in the news Nami related to him out of earshot of Zoro and most of the crew. She happened to have found him in the kitchen, finishing a late afternoon snack he'd begged out of Sanji. The cook listened from where he had just dropped one of the dishes he'd been washing, eyes wide beneath his curly brows.

"We have to tell Zoro," Nami concluded. "He would want to know."

"We can't tell him," Luffy replied, a serious scowl on his face. "She made me promise. She made us all promise."

"But Luffy…!" Sanji started, not yet bending to clean up the broken glass.

"We can't tell him, but we _can_ go back and help," Luffy concluded, cutting him off.

"Help how?" Nami cried. "We just made it past the Red Line, for crying out loud! It's practically impossible to go back now! – and we don't even know if Helena's alive."

Robin had followed the navigator in, and held the latest paper open, expression calculating:

"At this point, all of the damage has been done," she observed unhappily. "Her father and Hector have already been sent to Impel Down, and her people are scattered. Ilium has been completely destroyed."

Nami waved a vindicated hand in Robin's direction. "You see? Going back would be pointless. We need to tell him."

Luffy wore an uncharacteristically somber expression, his half empty platter untouched since the conversation had begun. "Why would you want to tell him," he pressed angrily, "If you're not going to let him do anything about it?"

Nami gaped at him. Robin let her gaze fall sadly back to the paper.

"The Captain is right," she said. "Even without the provisos, telling him at this point would just be torture. Perhaps we should wait until we hear further news."

Sanji sighed, but then squared his shoulders. "If there's a wanted poster out for her, we can rest assured she's still alive," he put in. "Zoro's Queen isn't one to just roll over when the going gets tough. If she needs our help, chances are she'll reach out to us somehow."

Luffy nodded pensively. "Then we wait," he said, though he didn't look like he loved the idea.

"We wait," the others agreed.

* * *

When Helena awoke, she found herself alone in a surprisingly comfortable, albeit musty bed. Dim light from a cloudy afternoon filtered through her window. Someone had cleaned and bandaged her topical wounds, including the burn on her face. She pushed herself upright, holding her head and trying to get her bearings. How on Gaia's green earth had she come here?

She had been having the strangest dream. Zoro had been trying to kill her. Only he was a monkey. He had a lot of monkey friends. She couldn't move to defend herself, but then Mihawk showed up and most of the monkeys ran away at the sight of him. The Zoro monkey he bribed away by tossing a bottle of wine.

She swung out of bed, dizzy and on the verge of vomiting. As she staggered to her feet, she noticed she still wore the torn, sequined death trap, her crown and her chains of office, but her sea prism dagger and the broken Peleus were conspicuously absent.

Confused, sick, and feeling vulnerable, she staggered across her room to what appeared to be a washroom connected to her bedroom. After disgorging what little she had in her stomach, she cleaned her mouth and face, then looked around for a weapon.

At best she found a towel rack, only it was drilled into the stone wall. In her weakened state she couldn't get it loose. Logic started to kick in just in time to prevent her from drawing a nearby plunger to use as a bludgeon. Whoever had tended her wounds probably bore her no ill will. Perhaps she should try to find him or her.

Anyway, there wasn't much about her life at this point worth defending.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, she found her benefactor gazing at her from where he now leaned against the doorframe to the bedroom.

"Mihawk?" she gasped.

Her strength nearly failed her completely, the room started to spin. She managed not to collapse in an embarrassing heap on the floor, directing her stumbling steps until she could sit on the edge of the bed.

She held onto the bed post, her court training screaming at her not to show weakness in front of an enemy. Was he an enemy? - She willed the room to stop spinning, and it somewhat obeyed, allowing her to sit upright at least:

"Were you the one who rescued me?" she asked, hoping she didn't belay any weakness in her voice. On top of the strain of recently emptying her stomach, her throat felt like it was still coated in ash. Her lungs weighed heavily inside her. She resisted the urge to cough.

He nodded.

"Why would you do a pointless thing like that?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.

He smirked. "I've been asking myself the same question. I gave up a good bottle of wine to save you."

Wait, so the monkey dream was real?

"Where are my swords?"

"I don't know that either of your weapons could be described as that at this point," Mihawk commented blandly. He lifted what remained of her mother's sword to his eye level, inspecting it with a pensive air. He had cleaned it. "You could have treated her blade with more care."

Helena chuckled wryly, and again resisted the urge to cough. "I think she would have wanted me to go out swinging, don't you?"

He snorted, perhaps pleased by her response, though he didn't say anything.

"But why disarm me?" Helena demanded, brow furrowed beneath her crown. "Surely I am no threat to you."

"Hardly," he retorted, voice even and calm as always. "I thought you might do harm to yourself."

Helena sobered, but didn't drop his gaze. "And what business," she articulated icily, "Would that be of yours?"

"It's not," he replied. With calm, unruffled steps, he entered the room and reverently placed what remained of Peleus on the nightstand beside the bed, and then her Sea Stone dagger, which he produced from his belt.

"Try not to make a mess," he said, and she couldn't tell if it was some kind of morbid joke or an actual request. "Though if I were you, I'd be sure my affairs were in order before opting for honorable suicide." He placed a folded newspaper beside the blades and turned to leave.

Helena watched him go, mouth dropped open but with no retort on her tongue. When he reached the doorway, he glanced back at her:

"Dinner's in an hour. You may be able to find some clothes in the next room over, should you desire a change."

When Mihawk's footfalls disappeared from down the hall, she allowed herself to give in to the urge to cough. Flopping backward onto the bed, she fought the dizziness threatening to overwhelm her again. After a moment, she reached a trembling hand to the nightstand and retrieved the latest newspaper.

Blazoned on the front page she saw her kingdom burning. It had all happened so recently, and yet to see it printed on paper, heedless of the people suffering beneath all that smoke and fire, brought all of the futile rage she felt to the fore. She shot upright and read the headline aloud through blistered lips:

" _Ilium Falls: Fleet Admiral Sakasuki Secures JUSTICE?!"_

Russet eyes aflame, she tore into the article, muscles growing more and more tense with each word she read. They had spun the story in their favor, of course, calling her deranged, calling her father a lunatic. It branded her people as zealous pagans who worshipped dangerous gods.

She shook with anger and sorrow as it all sunk in. Her father and Hector would be executed ignominiously. – her people, now branded as zealots, faced the same or worse wherever they landed. And she could do nothing to help them. She had failed them all completely.

Teeth gritted in her mouth, she took what remained of her mother's sword, and held it up in front of her pensively.

Mihawk had been right to think she would contemplate honorable suicide. Every minute she drew breath now was a minute more to her disgrace. There wasn't really much else left for her, something he likely understood as a fellow swordsman.

And yet he'd spoken cryptically of getting her affairs in order first. Her kingdom was gone. The nursemaids had presumably carried out Code Black. What affairs did she have left to organize exactly? Did he know something she didn't?

Perhaps she would ask him over dinner. After all, one could always kill oneself later.

* * *

Mihawk eyed his new charge as she made her way to the dining table that evening. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or not to see her there. If he were honest, he was a little surprised that his cryptic remark had been enough to keep her alive.

She had cleaned herself up, and wore an old, empire waisted gown, something the previous owners of the castle had left behind. – She must have found it somewhere other than the room he'd directed her to, because he'd sent her to Perona's. Perhaps Gothic Lolita chic was a little too far outside the realm of Helena's tastes.

Taking a seat across from him at the foot of his long table, she held herself rigid against the chairback and folded her hands into her lap, waiting for him to speak. How different from Leda she was! Though fair skinned, she had her mother's face – her eyes and lips, even the turn of her nose – but Helena's manners and refinement came completely from her father.

"I see you're not dead," he observed.

Helena looked him in the eye. "Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

"Perhaps," he replied, but he didn't answer her question right away. Gentry had just come in with the food.

A look of surprise lifted the brows on Helena's face, for her server was, in fact, a humandrill dressed in a waistcoat. He politely and skillfully placed a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of Helena before seeing to his master, then bowed and exited toward the kitchen.

"You have interesting servants," she observed.

"His name is Gentry and he was very difficult to train," Mihawk informed her. Perona had done most of the leg work there, having grown tired of being treated as the housekeeper herself. "Please refrain from drawing a weapon around him."

"I seem to recall being surrounded by monkeys like him. One acted like Zoro…"

Mihawk smirked ever so slightly. "Yes, your husband's humandrill has given me a good deal of trouble, but please be sure not to tell him that. Fortunately, he has developed a similar taste for alcohol."

"I was beginning to think Captain Circe may have gotten to him again," Helena chuckled, making Mihawk raise an eyebrow. "What's a Humandrill?"

They started their first course as Mihawk explained the dark history of the island to her. He noticed that though she tried to hide it, her hands shook as she ate and she looked unhealthily flushed. She clearly didn't feel well, but whether her illness was physical or emotional, it was hard to say. Perhaps she was still in shock. In that case, she should have had her first meal in bed, but he hadn't felt like coddling her. Anyway, she didn't complain, and listened to him attentively.

"This place has become your ideal training ground," Helena noted when he had finished.

Gentry came out with the second course; some fresh fish the mandrill had caught that morning, and prepared in a garlic butter sauce. Her hands had lost some of their shake after eating the soup, but she straightened back away from the next plate as Gentry set it before her, looking almost nauseated. She quickly hid her discomfort though, continuing the conversation:

"When you implied that I might have some affairs to set in order, I had thought that perhaps my husband had been transformed into a monkey and needed rescuing." She chuckled wryly, and he could hear the rasp she tried to hide in her throat. "Is there something you know that I don't, or were you just being facetious? This newspaper contained nothing helpful to me. I can't do anything for my people, or for Father or Hector now."

"It's not about who the paper mentions, but who it doesn't," Mihawk pointed out, surprised she hadn't extrapolated the information herself. "It's about your daughter."

"Naturally the paper wouldn't mention her. They haven't announced her existence before now," Helena replied airily, reaching for the glass of wine before her. "If her nursemaids carried out Code Black properly, the paper won't have anything more to say."

"Code Black?" Mihawk asked as Helena drew the wine to her. He decided to stay on topic rather than question her: "She has been kidnapped by Boa Hancock."

Helena stared at him, glass halfway to her lips, and seemed to immediately forget her thirst.

"I saw her aboard the Kuja's ship on my way out," Mihawk informed her. "I thought at first that that might have been where your nursemaids had intended to send her, but then I saw Hancock throw her over board."

"What?!" Helena gasped. Her surprise lowered her guard just enough that she broke into a coughing fit.

"She seemed to change her mind about the child's usefulness and rescued her," Mihawk concluded, buttering himself a roll as she finished coughing. "I have heard nothing of the World Government capturing her, so I believe it is safe to assume that they don't know Hancock has her. She is likely at Amazon Lily now."

Helena put down her wine, undrunk, and stood.

"I have to go," she said. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Just where did she think she was going?

"The only boat off of the island is mine," he informed her point blank.

"And if I try to commandeer it?" Helena demanded, the fire igniting in her countenance. Yes, that was more like it. He could definitely see her mother in her now, taking over the defeatist attitude she'd spouted before.

"I wouldn't recommend it," he replied with a wry smile.

"Then I will strap logs together and make a raft," Helena informed him.

"You sound like your husband," Mihawk observed, taking a sip of wine.

"Who knows what that selfish witch wants with my daughter. Even if her intentions are somehow miraculously altruistic, it's only a matter of time before Cipher Pol figures out where she is."

Helena made her way unsteadily toward the door. Mihawk didn't doubt her resolve, but he did doubt her ability, even if she were up to full health:

"You aren't strong enough to defeat her," he pointed out calmly.

Helena glanced back at him, her brow furrowed. "Do you think I'm going to let that stop me?"

"You'll be stopped, whether you try or you don't."

Helena whirled on her heel, her mother's fire now burning at full flame in her now. "Not strong enough to beat Hancock. Not worthy of my husband's name. Not worthy of my mother's sword. Do you ever say anything useful, or do you get a kick out of tearing people down when they have nothing left?"

"I'm not pointing out your faults. I'm pointing out the flaws in your plan," he told her coolly. Though he didn't let her see his regret, he winced a bit internally at the harsh things he had said back in Ilium. They had been true, but perhaps unnecessary. "And offering to help you."

Helena glared at him. "Help me how?" she demanded.

"By training you," he replied evenly.

He fully expected her to humble herself at this most generous offer. The hatred in her glare intensified, however. "No thank you," she retorted with regal disdain. "I don't want your help."

Mihawk blinked at her in genuine surprise. "No?"

"No," Helena snapped, and her illness and frailty disappeared in an instant as she stood tall, looking down on him where he sat. Though she no longer had a kingdom, she was all queen now. "Expected me to fall at your feet at that offer, did you? I would rather die than grovel to you."

"I see," he retorted, a vindictive smile threatening to crack his stoic demeanor. "I insulted you, and now your pride won't permit you to accept my help."

"That's not it," Helena informed him, growing taller still. "I remember how Andromache used to write to you when I was a child, always hoping for a response. Now I know it wasn't just a response she wanted; it was forgiveness. And you just couldn't give it to her, no matter how many olive branches she extended. You let her suffer, even after losing her best friend. –You're pathetic."

Mihawk didn't know quite how to respond to this brutal honesty. He'd expected it from Andromache, not from her. Helena wasn't done however. As she went on, her insults burned not only with her mother's fire, but with her father's bold wit:

"I used to respect your title and skill, but now I realize I want nothing to do with a swordsman who fights only for himself. I think it's pathetic that you lift your sword only to find a challenge, and never to defend what matters most. You're bored because you yourself are boring, sir. Boring and predictable. A simplistic, empty dream can hardly fill the void in your soul. - I can't wait for Zoro to dethrone you so the world can see what honor really looks like."

As Helena spoke, Mihawk made an uncomfortable realization. – She didn't just have Leda's face; she had her voice.

"There is nothing you could teach me that would be worth knowing," she concluded, turning on her heel. "Good evening, sir."

* * *

"YOU ACTUALLY SAID THAT?" Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji cried, "TO MIHAWK?!"

"Almost verbatim," Helena replied, grinning sheepishly. Zoro chuckled. When Helena glanced over at him, she saw him smirking, lounging against the chair back with a proud look on his face.

"Well, go on then, what did he say?" he prodded.

"I'm not exactly sure," Helena replied apologetically. "I, um, kind of fainted after that."

Zoro burst into laughter. "Pretty pathetic," he informed her.

She smacked him on the head. "I don't need you to tell me that."

"Sorry, Ohimesama."

She smacked him again for good measure.

"It turns out I had developed pneumonia from being drowned and resuscitated, and my battle wounds weren't helping."

Not that her wounds had been nearly devastating enough to reflect the devastation she had caused. She'd suffered more from the pneumonia than anything else. – and she had never fully recovered. Oh, her fever had broken quickly, she could breathe just fine now, but the queasy feeling had never left.

She kind of suspected it might have to do with losing, well, everything. But she didn't want Zoro to think her weaker than this whole scenario already painted her, so she didn't go into it. She had also deliberately omitted her thoughts of performing hara-kiri on herself.

"When I came to, he was actually asleep in a chair by my bedside," Helena went on. "I don't know if a man like that can be humbled, but it seems he felt intent on proving to me, or perhaps to himself, that he does in fact have a heart. He started by nursing me back to health."

Zoro smirked again. "Despite how he comes across," he said, "Mihawk's actually not a bad guy."

"Yes, that's something I came to realize," Helena replied with a nod.

* * *

"Why take care of me?" Helena demanded, finally lucid enough to address him from where she lay like a pathetic lump in bed. He had just taken a damp cloth from her forehead, placing his cool, rough hand on her brow in its place. "Are you this determined to train me? I thought I was a disappointment."

"You are," he responded bluntly and without humor, removing his hand. Helena didn't know whether to laugh or roll her eyes so she just stared at him.

He looked a little more disheveled than he was wont to be. – His hair uncombed, facial hair untrimmed, his shirt the same simple white tunic he'd worn when she'd first fainted, though a few days had passed.

"But perhaps there is something I can do to remedy that," he went on. "I owe it to Andromache, and to your mother."

Helena raised a brow, unimpressed.

"…and perhaps, in part, I owe it to you as well," he amended. "But I won't beg. This is the last time I will offer. Refuse, and I'll drop you off at the nearest island. You'll have to make your own way from there."

Helena contemplated him a moment.

"Can you stand to train me if I don't carry on her dream?" she asked him pointedly. "I still don't care to be the strongest."

Mihawk eyed her a moment, but when he replied, his voice no longer held a note of disdain. "Then I will resign myself to making you _strong enough_ ," he said. "Your fever has broken. We begin first thing tomorrow morning."

"Why wait?" Helena asked, pushing herself upright.

Mihawk grinned.


	16. Chapter 16 - To Honor

Ch. 16 – To Honor

Mihawk couldn't help but be impressed with his new protégé. Despite everything she had lost, she trained harder than even Roronoa had. Well, she did take an inordinate amount of bathroom breaks, but he attributed that to the fact that more than once a day she would push herself until she would vomit. After cleaning herself up she'd jump right back into the fray. Often, he had to pry the swords from her hands to get her to rest at the end of the evening.

The first task he'd set came in response to her inquiry of where she would obtain swords with which to train. He'd made her fight her way through the humandrills, armed with nothing but her dagger, to claim a trice of rapier for herself. Fortunately, they hadn't run into the Zoro Humandrill, or his own yet. Though he'd entertained her fool-hardy desire to begin training before she had fully recovered, just as he'd done for her husband, he knew she wasn't ready for that kind of battle yet.

They hadn't had a formal meal since the training began. Gentry brought them their meals out in the garden (and they had been careful to stow their weapons when he did). After the first successful week, however, Mihawk had declared an evening of rest. Though she protested, Helena looked like she needed it. She'd thrown up more than usual that day, and she looked increasingly pale.

She dined next to him, not at the end of the table this time. And their conversation was a good deal less stilted.

"So how is it that Zoro could cause a tsunami like that?" Helena was asking, russet eyes sparkling with excitement in her still somewhat sickly face. "Was it his physical strength or his haki?"

"Both," Mihawk replied. They'd been analyzing Zoro's fighting during the battle against Regent and his forces. "But you need to understand, it may not be physically possible for you to get there, even if you trained with me for twice as long as he did."

Helena frowned. She didn't look insulted, just pensive. "Why?"

"It boils down to body type and metabolism," Mihawk replied. "Roronoa puts on muscle easily, but you burn calories quickly, which means you struggle putting on weight. Your body is built for endurance, not strength."

Helena nodded in understanding.

"I have often defeated men physically stronger than myself," she observed. "I believe that physical strength isn't the only kind of strength in swordplay. Speed, strategy, flexibility, and agility also play a part, among other things."

"That is true. And I can see you have already honed your natural talents and put them to your advantage with your fighting style. But a lack of strength does give you a distinct disadvantage the moment you take a hit," Mihawk warned. "If you hone the strength of your spirit with haki, however, you may be able to even the playing field. Though women of various shapes and sizes, the Amazons are all incredibly powerful warriors. They use haki in all of their most basic attacks, which means even their least experienced warriors surpass you in strength, to say nothing of Hancock."

Helena nodded, looking suddenly very tired. Though the physical aspect of her training had come easily to her, the concept of armament haki still eluded her. It didn't help that she struggled to clear her mind in light of recent events. He would have to think of something to incentivize her the way he'd done with Roronoa. Unfortunately, her vices weren't quite as obvious or easy to exploit.

Speaking of Roronoa's vices, Helena still hadn't touched her wine. She hadn't touched much of her food all week, truth be told. If she kept this up, she'd never get any stronger. He mentioned as much, and she winced:

"Sorry, it's just nothing seems appetizing lately," she admitted. "If I'm honest, I've had all I can handle tonight. I think I may retire early, with your permission of course."

"If we aren't training, you don't need my permission," he pointed out.

Helena smirked. "It is polite to ask to be excused from the table," she reminded him, and he chuckled internally once again at how different her manners were compared to her mother's. "Oh, but before I go, I do have a question for you."

He raised a brow at her over his own wine, indicating for her to continue.

"Mick?" she asked, and he nearly choked. "Is that short for Mickey?"

"No," he said darkly, unamused. "And only Andromache has _ever_ called me that, understood?" Well, maybe Leda had too, but he wasn't about to mention that. She'd take it as permission.

"You know, since Ann was my surrogate mother, wouldn't that make you my Uncle?" Helena prodded. "So, _Uncle_ Mick?"

"No." Mihawk retorted flatly again. Since when had they started getting chummy, anyway?

"Well, if we go the other route, you were almost my father, so I could just call you Pa—"

"Go to your room," he commanded, and she giggled. It was the first true laugh he'd heard out of her all week. Maybe he didn't hate the sound. After all, it sounded like _her._

"Alright, goodnight Uncle Mickey," she countered with a cheeky grin.

She was going to get the workout from hell tomorrow.

* * *

About a week later, Helena knocked on Mihawk's door early in the morning, before their training had begun for the day, and before they had breakfasted. She'd found him dressed and just about to step out.

"Uncle Mick, can I ask you a favor?"

Mihawk clenched his jaw at the annoying yet endearing nickname. The workouts from hell had done nothing to dissuade her from using it.

"Not if you keep calling me that," he retorted from where he stood holding the door open.

He noticed she was wearing her best gown, not the workout attire she'd made for herself out of a bedsheet. She also wore her mother's sword along with her more useful weapons, and she had donned her crown and chains of office.

Helena snorted, but then sobered. "I was wondering if we could hold off on training this morning. There is something I need to do."

Considering her intense work ethic, he didn't think to reprimand her. He did have to wonder what could be so important. She didn't leave him wondering long.

"I know this is going to sound strange, but I would appreciate it if you would play a game with me," she went on unabashedly.

"A game?" Was she a child?

"It's tradition among my people to celebrate the dead through games and competitions," she clarified. "A celebration should come before the period of mourning, but I think I've been procrastinating both. I need to show proper respect to the death of my country."

Come to think of it, Mihawk did remember Andromache sending him a letter detailing some Funeral Games or some such when Leda had died.

"Usually the games are more like sports, but I don't want to use my energy on anything like that right now – the training is too important," Helena explained. "Given the circumstances, I figured something like chess would work. Just not monopoly. _Anything_ but that."

* * *

After they had breakfasted, they sat in the drawing room, an old chess board dusted off and unfolded between them on a coffee table. Comfortably situated on couches, they leaned over the board as they set up their respective pieces, Helena white and Mihawk black. Helena went on to explain:

"It is also generally tradition for there to be some kind of prize," she put forth. "I don't have much to wager, but if there is something of mine you would like you are welcome to it. My crown perhaps? It would fetch a high price now, I'd imagine."

Mihawk regarded her a moment. It didn't seem right to take her crown, and he had all the money he could need. Anyway, selling it would be a trick, given her wanted status. The crown was even depicted on her wanted poster.

"I have no use for something like that," he said, and his gaze fell to the sheath strapped to her hip. "I'll take your mother's sword."

Helena balked at this, hand flying protectively to the hilt. Mihawk didn't react except to raise a brow at her, as if daring her to back out of what she had started.

"It's not even that it was hers," Helena replied sheepishly, drawing the broken blade and placing it on the table beside the chess board. "It's that it has my wedding ring welded to it."

"Your wedding ring?" Mihawk asked, and Helena pointed to the golden band with the emerald where it rested against the crossbar.

So that's what that was. He had noticed it when he'd cleaned blade earlier. He knew Leda's blade had only had sapphires in the cross hilt, but had thought his memory might have been slipping.

"Zoro and I figured we'd more readily loose a hand in battle than our most important swords," Helena explained somewhat sheepishly, obviously realizing how foolish it sounded in light of what had ultimately happened to Peleus. "Didn't you see the band on Wado Ichimonji?"

"I honestly didn't notice it," he retorted. The ghost of a smirk broke Mihawk's countenance.

"What?" Helena demanded.

Mihawk intentionally didn't respond to torment her. Anyway, he had only been thinking that she and her husband were complete nerds.

"I take it I must put up a counter wager?" he went on.

"Not necessarily. As I am the host of this funeral game, it is up to me to offer the prize," Helena explained. "However, if you're willing to put up a wager, there _is_ something I could use."

Mihawk nodded to show he was willing to consider her request.

"A bottle of wine," Helena went on. "Good wine. The best you have."

"I suppose I could manage that," Mihawk replied. He rang a bell for Gentry, made a request, and the humandrill scampered off. Soon the butler-mandrill returned with a bottle of wine from Mihawk's well stocked cellar. "Would this do?" the swordsman asked.

Helena inspected the bottle he proffered her and gave a start.

"This is wine from the Grove of Kings," she exclaimed, taking it and caressing the label. "How did you get this?"

"Your mother sent it to me her first City of Dionysus festival," he replied, reveling a bit in the awed expression spreading across his ward's face. "Of your father's religion, I think she favored that god in particular. – it had been freshly bottled when she sent it, so I decided to give it time to ferment. I honestly forgot I had it."

"This is perfect," Helena said, placing the bottle on the table by her broken sword.

Mihawk indicated the board with a sweep of his hand. "It's your move."

Soon the game was under way. She wasn't bad. Mihawk was a bit rusty himself, but chess had always come naturally to him. Anyway, he had the advantage of realizing he could use his observation haki to better predict her next moves. She had a decent grasp on observation haki herself, but still struggled with application. – he should use this opportunity to teach her, but he really wanted that sword.

At first they remained concentrated solely on the game, Helena especially, what with such an important keepsake at stake. But eventually she broke the silence:

"May I ask you a question?"

"Check," he replied, moving a piece, and she gave a start. "You may, but I don't guarantee a satisfactory answer."

It was a preliminary move to throw off her game. – nothing she couldn't counter easily. She concentrated on moving herself out of danger before she went on:

"Why did you think Zoro would be the one to marry me?" she asked. "Of all the gifted swordsmen in the world, why him?"

Mihawk regarded the board a moment, contemplating his response long after he had already decided his next move.

"I mean, when you fought me, he hadn't even made a name for himself yet," she prodded after a protracted silence. She could obviously tell he was procrastinating.

"I had defeated him soon before you challenged me the second time," he replied, moving a piece at last. "I guess I just had him on my mind."

Helena was far too smart to be satisfied by this answer, but she didn't press him.

"Tell me about my mother," she asked a few moves later.

"Surely your father and Andromache told you plenty about her," Mihawk attempted to deflect, but Helena's lip curled at one corner:

"Oh, they did. But you have a different perspective I think," she observed, grinning. "They always made her sound so perfectly brave and beautiful."

"She was both," Mihawk acknowledged matter-of-factly.

Helena gave him a sly look. "Yes, but was she really a wild child?"

"The wildest," Mihawk replied despite himself. He told himself not to respond, not to go into any of it, but somehow he couldn't help it; Helena had the same amused, mischievous twinkle in her eye that Leda used to get. "She was about as unladylike as they come."

"Oh?" Helena asked, grinning as she took his queen, the sneaky devil. She'd almost certainly distracted him with the timing of her question on purpose.

"Your mother hated being royalty. She hated gowns and balls and suitors…"

"Sound familiar," Helena chuckled.

"But more than all that, she hated responsibility," Mihawk went on. "It scared her to think that one false move could hurt so many people."

Helena sobered. "That also sounds familiar."

"Yes, but she never tried to shoulder the responsibility like you have. She went out of her way to show just how lowbrow she could be, trying to get herself disowned," he went on, moving to take the knight that had taken his queen. "She refused to play the royal game. She mingled with the lower class, gambled, could drink anyone under the table! – She was rude and to the point, completely honest without tact. I found her straightforwardness refreshing, to be honest, but most people didn't appreciate it."

"How did you and she meet?"

"She tried to join my crew," Mihawk replied, smirking as he remembered how cheeky she had been. "She showed up on board out of nowhere when we were about to leave port and said she wanted to be a pirate."

"Oh gods," Helena chortled, "What did you do?"

"Well, Andromache attempted to throw her overboard," Mihawk replied, "Captain's orders…"

"Wait, wait, wait," Helena interrupted, looking up from where she'd been contemplating her next move. "Ann was a pirate too?"

Mihawk raised a brow at her. Had it really not occurred to her before now?

"She never said anything about it!" Helena seethed, "Not even after _I_ married a pirate!"

"It's a life she chose for us out of desperation," Mihawk said with a shrug. "She likely isn't proud of it. She left it as soon as she could."

Helena's expression softened. She turned back to the board and moved to take the bishop that had taken her knight. "So what happened when she went to throw Mother overboard?"

Mihawk chuckled. "It wasn't like it would have killed her or anything, we were still in port. But some guards saw her dangling the crown princess over the side and thought we were kidnapping her."

"No!" Helena guffawed.

Mihawk found he was enjoying retelling the story more than he'd thought he would. Helena certainly made for a rapt audience.

"Our captain wasn't particularly attached to Andy, or myself for that matter. We were new to pirating at the time, and our swordsmanship strong but nothing special. – He literally kicked Andy overboard, with Leda in tow. Naturally I jumped after my sister when I figured he was going to abandon her, which he did. While the guards were busy arresting us, the rest of the crew got away."

"Cowardly blighter," Helena observed.

Mihawk shrugged an agreement. Then realized Helena hadn't been paying as much attention as she should have to the game. All the conversation had kept him from using his observation haki as much as he'd intended, but she was just as distracted.

"Check," he said.

She frowned pensively and focused on the board a long time. Eventually she managed to move herself out of danger, but he'd trapped her in a tenuous position. "I suppose you didn't become fast friends with my mother right away after that," Helena observed when she was ready to hear more.

"On the contrary. She soon broke us out of prison and she, Andy, and I had a bit of an adventure together."

"She broke you out?" Helena said flatly. "She was the crown princess and could have had you acquitted, couldn't she? I mean, she knew you weren't trying to kidnap her."

"Of course, but in her words, this route was more fun," Mihawk chortled. "Besides. She may have had us acquitted of the crime of kidnapping, but we were still pirates. We'd have been executed anyway."

Helena narrowed her brow, making an incredulous expression. "Not if she'd given you her personal protection. I made sure my husband's crew wasn't executed, and we were generally pretty merciless to pirates."

"I think I mentioned she didn't like doing things the royal way," Mihawk pointed out wryly. "Anyway, she was desperate to get away from the palace in Alaburna. She had just turned a marriageable eighteen, and her suitors had become a real threat to her freedom. Your father among them."

"Oh dear," Helena sighed.

"Cygnus wasn't at all off-put by her wild nature. Being close neighbors, he'd met her on more than one occasion, and been infatuated with her for years. That quick tongue of his generally couldn't string a proper sentence together when she was around."

"Aw," Helena chortled fondly. "I find that hard to picture, but it's kind of sweet to think about." She raised a brow. "Though he can argue circles around people, I know he has always preferred those who are straightforward. Perhaps that is what attracted him to her. – I've been told he and his father were the only survivors of some grand royal intrigue. Papa was very young, but the lesson stuck with him. Hidden motives can be deadly in our line."

"I'm afraid that, straightforward as your mother was, she wasn't terribly kind to him," Mihawk put in wryly. "She called him Prince Ciggy the Twiggy as I recall."

"Well, you don't have to be so smug about it, Uncle Mick," Helena retorted, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at him accusingly.

"Who's being smug?"

Helena laughed, and he realized he'd let her get away with calling him that dumb nickname without retort.

"So where did this adventure take you three, anyway?"

"On an accidental grand tour of her country, actually, all the while doing our best to avoid capture. We didn't have a ship, so we couldn't leave. During that time I taught her everything I knew regarding swordsmanship. She wanted to know how to defend herself, but it was more than that…"

He moved to take Helena's queen this time, picking up the piece and inspecting it thoughtfully while Helena let out a grunt in frustration.

"A sword belonged in her hand. I saw it the first time she picked one up. She was without question, the most talented prodigy I've ever seen."

"A life of living in the palace hadn't turned her into a marshmallow then?" Helena prodded.

"Oh, she had a ways to go with regard to physical strength," Mihawk admitted, lowering the piece and watching Helena wreak vengeance on his remaining bishop. "But she picked up on all three forms of haki after my first description of them to her. She turned her sword black on the first try."

Helena stared at him. "How?" she asked. Demanded, really. He could see the desperation behind the question, all her own struggles coming to the fore.

He shook his head. "If I knew I'd have told you by now," he admitted. "Your mother had a powerful spirit. Unconquerable, even. She had eyes that could see straight through to the heart of things. I always felt she was destined for something great."

He didn't say it, but he'd seen those eyes in Helena's face up on the wall, and he'd thought at the time she was ready to show him where she'd come from. It had been infuriating, watching that flame disappear when Helena had given up on herself and her kingdom. Leda had never faltered.

Helena fell silent for a while when he did. Their game had progressed to a near close, and she had yet to put him in check, though she had taken several of his stronger pieces.

"I'm told my father gave her Peleus as a betrothal present," she said, her mind clearly on the blade the more she realized she was about to lose it.

"Part of how he managed to work his way into her good graces," Mihawk admitted, trying and mostly succeeding in keeping his tone from turning bitter. "Though a pacifist, he showed he respected who she was with that gift; that he wouldn't try to change her. It was a reassurance she had never had from anyone but Andy and myself."

"The Queen's Sword," Helena murmured, "Was always seen as a weaker blade than the King's. A lesser blade, because it couldn't fight gods; it could only protect. – But when my father gave it to me, he told me that my mother changed its reputation. And in the first days of my rule, he told me that my mother had paved the way for me to show my power, not just as a ruler, but as a queen. That I was not the lesser sword, but…"

Mihawk had just made his final move. He didn't say it aloud, but she could obviously see he had executed a checkmate. She picked up the broken sword by the hilt, stilling hands that shook with emotion, and he could see what she wanted to say. "… _but I failed…"_ her eyes confessed. He saw in them the anguish of one who had striven her hardest only to fall the farthest; the Sun Queen had flown too close to the sun.

She sheathed the sword, unbuckled the sheath, and held it toward him reverently. To his own surprise, he hesitated to take it. Suddenly he wished he'd asked for her crown or something else instead.

"You were right," she said calmly, and somehow managed a smile. "I am not worthy of my husband's name or my mother's sword. I shouldn't carry this memento of either. Anyway, it's not like I'd be carrying it for long."

He knew in that instant that nothing he could say would change her mind, because it was true, and she had finally accepted it out loud. Platitudes would not change what had happened. She had failed in a way most people would never be able to fathom. So much innocent blood had spilled because she had made all the wrong moves.

And now he knew with a surety something he had only suspected until that moment: that she had already slated herself for execution. He was training a dead woman. – It was no wonder, then, that she couldn't use armament haki. To protect herself she needed to care about her own survival.

He accepted the sword.

She made to stand, but he stopped her:

"Wait," he said, ringing a bell for Gentry.

She looked at him almost pleadingly. Clearly she wanted to go off and cry in a corner somewhere before they began training for the day. He wouldn't allow her that luxury. Not yet.

In a moment, he held two empty wine glasses and a corkscrew. He opened the Pomegranate Wine and poured them each a small sampling. After all, it was too early to be really drinking.

"You're not a complete failure," he said, wincing again internally because he knew how horrible it sounded. He couldn't be anything less than honest, though. Leda would have said the same thing. His stoic face didn't twitch. "For all your failings, Queen Helena du Leda, you are nothing short of honorable."

He raised a glass to her, and she looked at him almost incredulously as though wondering if he meant it. She chuckled as he didn't budge, and finally took a glass of her own.

"To my honor, then," she said, clinking her glass against his. "Or at the very least, to hers."

And they drank.


	17. Chapter 17 - Helena du Helena

A/N: I had more to this chapter, but it was getting too long so I decided to split it. Sorry. I really am trying to get us through this arc and to the Sunny, I promise. But these Mihawk chapters are just too fun to write!

* * *

Ch. 17 – Helena du Helena

"Sorry, I'm getting lost in the details again," Helena sighed. Though she'd done practically nothing but sleep since boarding the Sunny, her mind felt exhausted. "Suffice it, after about a month on Gloom Island, we saw an article in the news that said…"

"Wait, hold up!" Usopp interrupted. "You said you drank a toast."

"Yes, I know, it's not important…"

"No, but you _drank_ ," Nami said, "Wine. Actual wine, right?"

Helena eyed them incredulously. "Naturally."

"And?" Everyone prodded. – except for Brook and Franky. They just looked confused.

"And what?"

"Did you get drunk?" Luffy asked blatantly, eyes a-twinkle. "Did you go crazy and fight Mihawk?"

Helena blinked at him. "I don't get drunk," she reminded them, shrugging and shaking her head at the silly notion.

"Yes, you do!" they cried.

"I've never been drunk in my life," Helena insisted. "Why would one small toast do that to me?"

An exchange of glances.

"Come to think of it, I blacked out again," she went on pensively. "I really overworked myself during my time there, and I was constantly tired, so it's really not that unusual. Stop looking at me like that, Zoro."

Zoro had been staring at her slack jawed.

"When I next woke up, it looked like he'd been doing some demolition on part of the castle."

The Straw Hats burst into laughter, Brook and Franky excluded.

"Oh, I wish I could have seen that!" Zoro laughed.

"If she was as scary as she was when she fought you, I bet she caught even Mihawk by surprise!" Usopp added, nodding at Zoro.

"I'm sure he was able to handle her fine if I could," Zoro said with a nod of his own. "Oh, but she didn't know about haki back then. I wonder if that made a difference."

"What are you all babbling about?" Helena demanded.

"Nevermind," Zoro said, stifling a smile. "So, you were saying?"

She was saying…? What was she saying?

* * *

Tinkling glass alerted Mihawk to the fact that something was very wrong. After one sip of the pomegranate wine, Helena had slumped forward in her couch, dropping his fine crystal onto the stone floor.

Was it poisoned? He didn't feel any effects, and the wine tasted superb. Some of the best he'd ever had, in fact. – Maybe her illness had weakened her?

She swayed and looked up at him, blinking dazedly through glazed eyes.

"Are you drunk?" he asked incredulously. Had she even had more than a sip?

She exploded into a fountain of tears.

An emotional drunk, then. – For a few seconds he stared at her, at a complete loss for words. He was used to this kind of behavior out of Perona, but Helena, who had far more urgent things to cry about, had always kept her tears to herself. He had no idea what to do, but as the seconds ticked by, he was getting desperate for her to stop.

"Uh…" he started, awkwardly patting her head. "There, there?"

"Don' be nice to me, Uncle Mickey," she sloshed, slapping his hand away. "I's weird!"

Mihawk rubbed his smarting hand, feeling a little insulted. He'd been plenty nice to her before this moment! Anyway, _she_ was the one who'd started calling him "uncle."

"I guess I will leave you alone then," he said, standing with Leda's ruined sword in hand. "It looks like you could use some privacy."

"You're an idiot," she garbled, tears slowing incrementally. "Is this how you always act when a girl's crying? No wonder Mom had no idea you liked her."

Well, that was below the belt. A hasty retreat still felt like the best course of action, but Helena had stumbled to her feet, blocking his path.

"We should keep training," she informed him, still sniffling. "Or do you think these tears make me weak?"

"You're in no state to…" he started, but stopped short when she threw a slash. He had hardly detected her drawing the blade. Since when had she been able to move that fast?

Good thing her aim was terrible. He hadn't had to dodge the attack, but it had narrowly missed the coffee table. It had cut through the chess board on top of it, however, and the couch behind him. A shame, really. He'd liked that couch. Good for napping.

"No state to what, huh? Huh?" she goaded. "I'm _fine._ "

She had two swords out now. When had she drawn the other? He didn't recall blinking. – he immediately tuned into his haki, realizing if she could draw that quickly, she could also move that quickly.

He'd been right to be concerned. She threw four more, poorly aimed slashes in quick succession. It was a shame he'd left his broadsword in the other room. He had the knife hanging from about his neck, and used it to block with precision speed.

He hadn't been protecting himself, he'd been protecting the wall behind him. It required some special concentration to dissipate the power in her slashes, not just deflect them into the opposite wall. Her fourth slash passed him just a fraction of a second before he could intercept it, crashing into the wall with enough force to shake the entire castle.

He turned to look at the damage, brows lifted in surprise. Well, he'd been thinking of expanding the drawing room into the hallway anyway.

Wait. No he hadn't.

When he dared to glance further into the hole she'd created, he saw that it actually went beyond the hallway, into the room behind it and then out into the garden. If she kept this up, she might actually damage the structural integrity of the building.

More surprising than the power of her attack was the fact that it had gotten past him. Something like that hadn't happened in a long time.

Helena gurgled out a chuckle. "Hur hur hur, why you both look so surprised?"

"Both?" Mihawk asked, thinking at first that her crossed-eyes were seeing double. Well, they probably were, but then he noticed she meant someone else. A humandrill in a waistcoat had just peaked past the rubble the next room down. He wore a shocked expression on his simian face.

"If he goes ballistic, you'll have no more instruction until you retrain him," Mihawk informed her.

Helena frowned at this. It appeared that her foggy brain actually grasped the implications; she lowered her swords.

"Thank you," he said curtly, then turned back to the humandrill. "Gentry, please go relax in your quarters. You have the rest of the day off." He turned back to his drunken pupil. "I think you should do the same."

Helena glared at him cross-eyed. "No," she humphed.

"We won't be training today," he insisted firmly.

"Fine," Helena snapped. She took a few stumbling steps toward the corridor she'd created. "You won' train me? I'll train m'shelf. Where them monkeys at? Here monkey, monkey, monkey! Oo oo! Ah ah!"

Mihawk decided he should probably follow her for her own safety, and possibly the safety of the castle. He went to grab his sword, just in case, and soon found her outside the garden walls, screaming out challenges to the forest.

Curiosity got the better of him. Seated atop the wall, he masked his natural conqueror's haki, allowing the mandrills to get close without fear of his presence. It wasn't long before a fair number of challengers surrounded his drunken pupil.

She quickly dispatched the first wave of humandrills, but with a level of strength Mihawk had never seen out of her before. Though she moved without precision, she had an incredible amount of dumb luck with regard to landing hits and disarming her opponents. It was a pity she lacked finesse; she cut down a fair few trees in the process, leaving an unsightly gap in the forest line.

He grinned as he watched. Something about it all tickled him. After all, Leda had always been able to hold her liquor so well. It felt ironic that her daughter could not.

Wait.

The Leda he'd known had been able to drink him under the table. But now that he thought on it, he remembered something Andromache had mentioned to him in a letter long ago. Ever the irresponsible one, Leda had gone out drinking despite her pregnancy, and had gotten drunk after only one sip of alcohol. She'd leveled a restaurant, then had no memory of it the next day.

This type of thing apparently happened more than once. Andromache had theorized it had to do with Dionysus. The God of Wine's mask apparently had permanent side effects.

Luckily, Helena had been spared from fetal alcohol syndrome by the fact that it took so little liquor in her mother's system to get her drunk. However, Leda had been pregnant with Helena when she'd worn the mask. It appeared the side effects had carried over to her unborn child.

But were said side effects a blessing or a curse?

Swaying a bit as she eyed her handiwork, Helena gurgled out a triumphant laugh. Mihawk awarded her a slow clap.

"Well done," he said. "You dispatched that group faster than you've ever done before. But you're still nowhere near as strong as your mother."

The stupid grin on Helena's face dissipated into a scowl.

"Oh, yeah. Mom's so great," she grumped, "D'you know how obnoxious it is being compared to someone all the friggin' time?"

"Oh, it must be infuriating I imagine," Mihawk goaded in an even tone, "Particularly when the object of your comparison is superior in every way."

Helena's scowl deepened. "Yeah, yeah. Been hearin' that m'whole life," she pouted, then went on in sing-song, "'It's too bad you didn't inherit your mother's figure, Helena. Your a stick.' 'Couldn't even carry your babies to term? Leda carried you right onto the battle field!', 'Pity your not nearly as strong as your mother, Helena.' 'Oh, haki? Your Mom was a prodigy, why you struggling so much?'"

She glared at him and held out the rapier in her right hand. "She did it first try, huh? Just, hrrrrrrrm…" she scrunched up her entire face as though willing her energy into the sword. "And there it goes!"

She'd finished the comment nonchalantly, but Mihawk nearly fell off the wall in surprise; seconds after Helena had scrunched her face in apparent concentration, her blade had turned a solid, unbreakable black.

She hadn't noticed it right away, then did a drunken double take when she finally did, blinking at it as though someone had suddenly thrust her into a bright room. When she finally registered that she'd managed a steady coating of armament haki for the first time, she let out a loud laugh.

Turning her attention to her sea prism dagger, she scrunched her face again and did the same thing. Giggling like a giddy toddler, she knocked the two black blades together just to hear them ring off of one another.

She lifted a leg above her head and used her toes to clumsily retrieved one of her foot swords from her back sheath, then did the same with the other. Soon they too gleamed with a dark sheen and she was tap dancing drunkenly along the ground with her blackened blades, still knocking her hand blades together like bells.

Suddenly she stopped and pointed her swords at her master…well, in his general direction at least:

"How's that, huh?"

He stood, drawing his broadsword with a wide smirk on his face.

"We shall see," he said.

Leaping from the wall, he swung at her hard though not at his full speed, giving her time enough to parry. He was delighted at how well her blades held when they connected with his.

Aside from slowing himself down, he hadn't been pulling his punches. Much. With that one strike, he sent her flying back into the forest a good half a mile. After all, he didn't want her doing any more damage to his castle.

He rushed after her using shave, and soon his blade connected with hers again. Her strong spirit radiated from her in pulses and waves, so that though he had toned down his own conqueror's haki, hers soon had scared off most of the mandrills within a mile radius. Birds too far away to detect their fight fled the distant trees. The forest around them went quiet.

In that moment, if he closed his eyes, her raw, uninhibited spirit felt almost exactly like her mother's.

Powerful as he was, he couldn't loose his full strength on her, yet he laughed in true delight as they fought. Something about it brought closure to the jaded swordsman, finally seeing that Leda's talent hadn't been wasted entirely; that it did truly reside in her daughter, just hidden beneath all the inhibitions Helena carried with her crown.

"That's more like it, Daughter of Leda!" he proclaimed as they fought.

"Daughter of Leda, Wife of Zoro," Helena grumped at him, staggering back to glare at him. "What if I just want to be Helena du Helena for a change?"

He grinned a broad grin.

"Very well," he prompted, "Show me what Helena du Helena can do."

"Dionysus Dance – Bacchanalia!" she pronounced. And suddenly she was dancing around him there in the darkness of the forest, swinging her blades with no real intention of hitting him. Even a novice could dodge her movements, but there was more to it than met the eye.

He could feel her conqueror's haki charging as she moved, power pulsing through her body and into her blades. He was curious to see how far it would take her, but as her master he couldn't excuse such a meager offensive, to say nothing of her lack of defense.

He swung at her hard, intending to knock her down with the flat of his blade. She blocked him with surprising ease; a drunken swing timed just right to stop his attack. It had to be that amplified luck of hers. Sober, she wouldn't have been able to stop him.

Pushing off of their crossed swords to perform a clumsy but effective flip above him, she continued her wild dance where she landed. Though he attempted twice more to stop her cavorting, she dodged him almost accidentally it seemed.

Suddenly she stopped dead, her gaze leveling with his.

" _Sparagmos_ ," she rumbled, bloodlust in her eyes.

His brows lifted in surprise. Never had she looked more wicked. He marveled that under all those layers of virtue and selflessness, Helena had a bit of a demon hidden inside her.

She sprung toward him, bringing all four of her swords at him, two from above, two from below, folding herself in half as she jumped. He actually had to kick his power up a notch to keep her from dismembering him.

He pushed her back with one fell swipe, but she actually managed to cut the fabric of his left sleeve before he caught all four of her blades. She flipped head over heels, landing on her head and shoulders with her legs folded over her and her royal rump in the air. Her luck seemed to extend to her modesty, it seemed, for her now tattered dress fell in just such a way to keep her covered.

Still grinning, Mihawk lifted his non-dominant arm and inspected the damaged brocade of his jacket sleeve. His gaze shifted back to her when she flopped upright, crown askew. The demonic glint in her eye had vanished when he'd dispelled the attack, but she looked like she still had plenty of energy to keep going.

Though he desperately wanted to continue to fight her like this, he knew that he'd have to use his full strength if they took it any further. There was really no way for him to do so without seriously injuring her. He couldn't exactly let her keep rampaging though the forest though. He needed to figure out some way of wearing her down.

Before he could formulate a plan, a solution presented itself in the form of a powerful, albeit animal presence. Though Helena's strong haki had driven off most of the humandrills, it had actually _attracted_ one in particular; one who was determined to become the strongest swordsmonkey on the island.

"Oh, hey Zoro," Helena slurred, stumbling to her bladed-feet to face the Zoro-mandrill. "You wanna dance?"

The huge, hulking mandrill had already tied a bandana around his head, drawing three katana from his bellyband with a grunt.

"That is not your husband," Mihawk felt the need to remind her, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"You were a lot cuter as a fox, you know that?" she informed her new opponent, leveling a sword at him. "Show me what you got, monkey-man! Don' worry. If I win, you can still keep my hand. We're soooo past that now."

In better spirits than he'd been in years, Mihawk could hardly stifle his amusement at her faux pas. "If you manage to kiss him, he may turn back into a human," he deadpanned.

"Really?" Helena replied with complete credulity. "Shoulda tried kissing him as a fox."

It wasn't long before Helena was chasing the Zoro-mandrill through the forest, her lips a-pucker as he fled her in sudden alarm. For all the poor monkey had imitated Zoro down to the personality, how could he have known that his human counterpart had a crazy wife?

Helena eventually landed a sloppy kiss on the mandrill's cheek. Her disappointment that it didn't work, and his completely shock that she had actually invaded his personal space, soon led to blows. Mihawk carefully chaperoned the situation until Helena had worn herself out, then drove the now exhausted Zoro-mandrill off himself.

The Zoro-mandrill wasn't as strong as the actual Zoro, but Helena had still done well to tire him out without any injury to her person. And though at the end of her strength, Mihawk still had to knock the indefatigable drunk unconscious with the flat of his blade to keep her from attempting to chase her "husband" for round two.

He hadn't stopped grinning throughout all of this. With her swords slung over his shoulders, he carried Helena back to the castle with more hope for her future than he'd had since she'd arrived.


	18. Chapter 18 - The Cost of Integrity

A/N: Lil bit o' fluff, lil bit o' angst, lil more fluff. It's a reverse smore or something. Marshmallows on the outside with some bitter chocolate in the middle. Bon apetit!

* * *

Ch. 18 – The Cost of Integrity

Zoro watched Helena doggedly trying to remember what had happened during her drunken rampage and coming up short. It seemed like a real pity. He was sure they were missing out on a hilarious story.

"Wait, you said you lost your sword in that chess match, right?" Nami interrupted before Helena could continue her tale. "But you still have it."

"Oh, right. I blacked out or something. When I woke up, Mihawk had given it back to me. He said I'd earned it back somehow."

That sounded really promising. Zoro really wished he knew more about her drunken battle now. It took a lot to impress Mihawk.

"Did he give you the wine too?" he asked.

The question seemed to take Helena by surprise.

"The wine," Zoro repeated. "To pour a funeral libation."

A warm look spread across her face. "You knew that's what I wanted it for," she observed affectionately.

Zoro nodded. The funeral and funeral games he'd attended in Ilium had kind of stuck in his mind. Maybe it was an after effect of having been struck by one of Apollo's healing, mind-sharpening arrows so close to it. Or maybe he couldn't help but remember a funeral rite that included wasting good liquor.

"Yes," she answered simply, "Yes, he gave me the wine too…"

* * *

Helena went looking for her master, completely perplexed to have found herself abed, the day now spent. Putting her observation haki to good use, she soon located him in the kitchen. She peaked around the door, surprised to see Mihawk in a white ruffled apron, preparing the evening meal and _whistling to himself?_

"I didn't know you could cook," she observed. – _or that you could whistle_ , she added in her head.

"I gave Gentry the day off, as you recall," he pointed out, and Helena furrowed her brow in confusion. When had he given Gentry the day off? "I can handle myself around a kitchen."

"I see," Helena observed. "Would you like some help?"

"Royalty that knows how to cook?" he asked, raising a brow at her incredulously. "Your mother could burn water."

Helena chuckled. "Hector taught me a few things," she confessed. "I was a soldier for a year. I learned basic survival skills, including how to prepare food. Believe it or not _, I can even sew a button_." She added this last bit with humor, realizing that her domestic skills were severely lacking all the same.

Mihawk smirked and nodded toward some vegetables that needed chopping. Helena quickly washed her hands and found another apron to throw over her second-best gown. –She had awoken to find her best tattered and dirty, and so, after cleaning herself off, had changed into something cleaner.

She had also found her mother's sheathed blade conspicuously placed at her bedside. This she lay on the countertop before she took up a kitchen knife to start chopping. She glanced at Mihawk, then set to work:

"I believe you left this in my room," she said softly, not looking at him.

He didn't pause over the meat he was preparing. "Yes. You have earned it back."

Helena's knife slowed and she turned to stare at him. "I have?" she asked incredulously.

"After what you've shown me, how could I not return it, Helena du Helena?" He said this last part with a wry edge to his voice, perplexing her further.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

He turned to look at her at last, brows furrowed. "You don't remember?"

"I remember you beating me at chess," she said. "After that…did we do some more training?" She certainly felt sore enough for it, and it explained the tattered dress. Why would she train in a dress? Her head hurt. "Did you knock me out? I don't remember a thing."

"You turned your blades black," Mihawk informed her point blank. "And you all but defeated the Zoro-mandrill."

"I did?" That must have been some pretty intense training.

He laughed, clearly in a good mood. She had never seen him this chipper before. "Perhaps I should take the blade back then," he said, eyeing it. "I had meant to use it as an incentive for your training. But no. Keep it. I see now you don't need that kind of motivator."

She had thought he'd wanted a memento of her mother. It turned out he'd been thinking of using it to help her all along. Helena flushed and busied herself with her vegetables.

"But if I can't remember turning my blades black, how will I do it again?" she asked her cutting board.

Mihawk was silent for a moment. When at last he spoke, it wasn't a direct answer to her question. "You asked me this morning why I thought Roronoa would be the one to win your hand."

While a bit off put by the subject change, she had been curious to know about this too. "Yes?"

"When I fought him, I ended up nearly stabbing him in the heart," he explained in his calm way, stating this gruesome fact without showing pride or remorse. "I had my knife between his ribs, and if I moved even a millimeter, he'd have been dead. But he didn't back down. When I asked him why, do you know what he said?"

"That if he did, his promises were meaningless, and that he could never stand before you again," Helena murmured, remembering Zoro's own recounting of the story.

"Yes," Mihawk said, "He impressed me with the strength of his resolve. I saw in his reckless nature one who would not hesitate to obtain his heart's desire, even at the cost of his life."

Helena smiled at this perfect assessment of Zoro's character.

"And do you recall when I fought you?" he went on. Helena nodded. How could she forget? "I saw your mother's pride in you. I wanted to see your mother's strength in you also, and in my eagerness, I wounded you almost fatally. Your General Hector wanted to scoop you off of the battlefield, but you stopped him. Even though you were in real danger of bleeding out, you bowed to me and gave your oath.

"You impressed me with your integrity," he went on. "An integrity that your mother had never truly possessed. You, so like your mother in pride, and yet surpassing her in virtue. He, so like myself in ambition, and yet surpassing me in resolve. I knew that he would succeed where I had not; he would win the heart of the woman he loved."

"And you knew that would be me?" Helena prodded, an incredulous tilt to her brow.

"He had but to meet you to love you," he stated matter-of-factly. "That much was obvious."

Helena flushed. "Obvious?" She tipped her now chopped vegetables into a waiting steam rack. She placed it over a pot of boiling water as Mihawk went to wash his hands.

"Are you fishing for compliments?" he asked, and she smiled.

"You're right. You've already mentioned my mother and me in the same sentence without insulting me," she pointed out. "I shouldn't press it. It's weird when you're nice to me, Uncle Mick."

Mihawk snorted as he started grilling the three steaks he'd been working on. Their savory smell quickly filled the air, making Helena's mouth water. "I see. So between trainings, I should lock you in the dungeon and keep you on stale bread and water? -Well, medium, or rare?"

"If it would help me improve, I'd be all for it," Helena joked, though she looked longingly at the steaks. "Medium."

"What you need to improve is not my goading or insults," he said, and Helena blinked at him in surprise. Was he apologizing? "You want to turn your blades black again? It won't be through comparisons to your mother, or a desire to win back her sword."

"No?"

"I believe it is time you value your own virtues, Helena du Helena," he said, removing one of the steaks from the pan. It was pretty raw – probably for Gentry. "You have spent your life shouldering everyone else's burdens and visions and dreams. But what is it that the uninhibited you wants?"

Helena blinked at him.

"To rescue my daughter, of course."

"And then?"

Helena went quiet. She didn't want to talk about what would happen then.

She tipped some of the cooked vegetables onto some waiting plates – three plates, one for herself, Mihawk, and Gentry. Some day-old rolls currently warming by the stove would round out the meal.

"Your husband is powerful because he knows what he truly wants," Mihawk pointed out, removing the last two steaks. "I believe there is a part of you that knows what you want, but you are afraid to say what it is."

"I used to want a Free Ilium," she said softly, "But you have seen where that dream led…"

Guilt and anguish washed through her. This conversation was starting to make her uncomfortable, so she decided to change the subject.

"Uncle Mick, you said I'd earned my mother's sword back. May I have the wine also?"

He stared at her with those piercing eyes of his, and she willed herself not to shrink. "You may," he said after a protracted moment. "I'll retrieve it for you after dinner."

* * *

Helena had found, through Mihawk's guidance, in which direction Ilium lay. It had been close enough to the beach that she decided to performed the ritual there, and Mihawk left her alone to it (after confirming she didn't intend to drink anything for some reason).

She waded out into the shallows, heedless of the salt water soaking the hem of her dress. She should have worn an undyed chiton, or sackcloth, but she didn't have anything like that available. Her nicest clothes, her crown and chains, seemed like the next most appropriate thing.

Lifting the wine above her head, she spoke with a steady, stately voice as though addressing a crowd:

"I pour this, not for you, O, merciless gods. I pour it solely for those lost," she pronounced, quiet rage barely contained beneath her tone. "I ask you no forgiveness for the tears I have and will shed. All I ask is that you guide the souls of Ilium to peace."

Helena tipped the wine into the ocean, blood red that faded quickly into the dark water. The pressure of tears built up behind her eyes, a long-withheld cry of anguish starting to form in her throat. Before she could let it all free, a thunderous boom pushed her off of her feet. Light filled the gloomy shore, gathered around the imposing figure of a woman in Iliad armor floating just above the foam.

Athena.

"Your libation has been received," Helena's patron goddess pronounced calmly. Her owl, Socrates hooted softly from his perch atop her helmet.

Helena stared at them from where she sat half soaked in the shallows. The shock of seeing Athena there stole her breath away as effectively as the ocean's chill. When at last she spoke, it was to give voice to the rage building in her breast; the same futile rage she'd felt as her kingdom fell:

"How dare you?" she snarled.

The goddess regarded her impassively, face hidden beneath her golden helmet as always. She said nothing, and Helena rose to her feet, a rapier in hand, posture tense though not martial.

"How dare you show yourself to me after everything that's happened?" she demanded.

"I'm afraid I do not understand," Athena replied calmly. "You blame me for not appearing to you in your moment of need? I could not. You drove me away by your lack of obeisance. This libation is the first act of faith you have performed to any of us since you destroyed Hera's temple. More to the point, it is the first since you openly defied my command…"

"Openly defied _you_?" Helena demanded with venom. "I've been nothing if not obedient to your every whim, O Goddess of Wisdom. When have I _ever_ …?"

"The Lotus Flower," Athena cut her off.

Helena's mouth clamped shut, teeth still bared in an aggressive snarl. "You wanted me to trap the man I love!" she growled.

"Won't you ask me why?"

"I don't care," Helena snapped. "It was wrong! Wrong to deny his freedom! – to take from him the people he loves most! How could you ask me to…?"

"He would have spotted Cipher Pol before they could have put their plan into motion," Athena clarified. "He would have prevented all of this from happening."

"Be quiet!" Helena shouted, swinging her sword threateningly toward the goddess though she wasn't quite close enough to hit her. The blade whistled as it moved, but the goddess didn't flinch, nor did the owl perched atop her helmet.

"If you had never let Zoro go in the first place, Calypso Blue would not have gained a foothold in your country to begin with."

"I said, shut up!" Helena swung her sword again, this time leaping forward to strike. Socrates fluttered into the air while Athena disappeared. Helena struck nothing but ocean.

The owl swooped overhead, and as she followed his flight, he clipped her in the back of the head with one of his enormous talons.

"I did try to warn you," Athena insisted, now standing on the sands of the beach behind her while Socrates came to rest once more on her helmet.

"Warn me?" Helena seethed, rubbing the sore spot on the back of her head. "For years you have been grooming me, not to defeat my enemies, but to marry a man who could."

"Yes," Athena affirmed.

"You never believed in _me,_ did you? – With my lineage and resolve, you should have made ME the one strong enough to protect what I love. Alone."

"No one mortal is ever strong enough alone," Athena replied sagely. "Your mother learned that the hard way."

Helena's defensive posture softened, her arms fell to her sides, letting her sword and the tip of her dagger trail in the water.

"What will it cost?" she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"What is the price to use a mask and restore Ilium?" Helena demanded, looking to her desperately. The gentle push of the ocean's waves on her knees made both to shove her toward the shore and steal her out to sea, but she held steady where she stood. "I will give anything!"

"Are you so sure?"

They would ask for her daughter. Perhaps for her husband. Helena couldn't think of anything more precious left to her than her family now. Her heart and countenance fell.

"Tell me," she pleaded anyway, her heart pounding against her ribcage hard enough to bruise.

"The gods are in agreement," Athena expounded. "There is but one offering we wish of you, and in exchange you may use any one of our powers."

Any one of the powers at the same cost? Such an offer had never been made before, in all the history that Helena had studied. Surely the cost would be steep. She looked up at the faceless goddess before her, waiting with baited breath.

"You must show deference to Hera," Athena said in an even tone. "You must say that she is the most beautiful of all the gods."

If the idea of losing her daughter or husband had made her heart falter, this certainly did nothing to restore it. "What?" Helena rasped in disbelief.

"The gods ask little," Athena dared to say, but there was an ironic smile in her voice.

"That gods ask much!" Helena insisted, her lip twitching in disgust.

"The gods are at war over your actions, Helena de Zoro," Athena boomed with sudden ferocity, and only by sheer strength of will did Helena resist the urge to step back. "What we ask is that you end the war we fight amongst ourselves. The war that prevented any of us from saving our homeland. The war that silenced the heavens."

The gods were at war? Now _that_ had never happened before. Infighting, yes, but outright war? – Helena remembered the way Mount Olympus had looked during Ilium's final battle. It had been embroiled in its own personal storm. Vaguely she wondered which of the gods had been fighting on her side. On Ilium's side.

Athena's allegiance seemed suspect, particularly when she finished her angry speech with a powerful command:

"Show deference to the Queen of the Gods!"

The power pulsating off of her succeeded in pushing Helena off of her feet. Now drenched completely in an unwilling baptism, she struggled to stand. The ocean buffeted her forward, so that she landed on her hands and knees at Athena's feet. Except, when Helena looked up, it was no longer Athena standing there on the shore.

Arrayed in divine blue, an enormous fan of peacock feathers flaring up behind her, Hera smirked down at Helena around her beaked mask. The goddess proffered her gold sandaled foot as though fully expecting the deposed Queen to kiss it.

"Go on," Hera simpered.

In her mind's eye, Helena saw the child with the little blue curl, small and paper white, born clutching a golden flower. Her little Telemachus. – Trembling in cold and rage, she glared up at the goddess who had orchestrated her son's death out of petty vanity.

"Never," she rasped.

Hera let out a short laugh. "Ha! You really value your pride more than your country, mortal?"

"You may take my life, but not my deference, witch," Helena growled. "I will not incline my head to you, nor to any god who would condone the sacrifice of a babe, what's more a country, to appease the vanity of the most hideous among them."

Hera's countenance turned beneath the mask, her blue glow darkening ominously. "Heretic! You will live to regret your decision," she snarled. "I declare Olympus well and truly closed to you and your family now, du Prometheus! Without a sibyl, you will not be able to reach us. No amount of pleading or tears, no amount of prayers or libations will grant you access to us. And you will suffer! You will give me all you have left to give! Hades will dog you every step and you will find no respite, not in life nor in death!"

"So be it," Helena seethed.

Hera let out an indignant shriek, and Helena had to shield her eyes against the goddess' sudden, intense luminosity. A moment later the goddess had vanished with a loud crack, the power in her departure buffeting Helena back into the ocean shallows again.

She sat upright and stared at the beach where the goddess had been; Hera had left a crater surrounded by small ripples in the sand. Helena's eyes widened as the weight of her decision settled over her.

"Great Zeus, what have I done?"

* * *

Helena sat in the sand and stared at the ocean for hours after that, heedless of her sopping dress. She had removed her crowns and chains of office for what she knew would be the last time, clutching them in cold-hardened fingers. Her encounter with the goddesses had convinced her that she was no longer a queen.

After a while she noticed a strong presence beside her. She turned a tear-stained face to see the Zoro-mandrill looming over her. He'd probably been attracted there by the goddess' power. She'd noticed him observing her for a while now, but for whatever reason he'd finally decided to approach her.

"I'm not in the mood to fight right now," Helena informed him, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face as she turned back to rest her folded arms against her knees.

"Hmph," he snorted. Pulling all three of his swords, sheaths and all, from his haramaki, he clutched them against a shoulder so he could seat himself cross-legged beside her, just like the real Zoro might have done.

"Just here to keep me company?" Helena asked, her surprise drawing a small chuckled out of her as she glanced over at him.

He snorted again. A non-committal sound.

"To tell you the truth, I was missing the real Zoro just now," Helena murmured, gazing back out at the ocean. She hugged herself tighter. Fresh tears stained her face as she started to shake. "Do you think he would be ashamed of me now?"

The mandrill made a disconcerted grunt. He probably didn't like seeing his opponent weak like this. At the moment, Helena didn't care:

"I just sold my country for my pride," she rambled desperately, "I could have restored Ilium just now if I would have only bowed my head! I could have given my people back their homeland! It's like I just destroyed Ilium all over-!"

She stopped short when the Zoro-mandrill suddenly made his intentions for stalking her known. Without looking at her, he shoved his huge, monkey fist in front of her face to reveal a wad of…

"Dandelions?"

Helena's tears came to a surprised halt as, wide-eyed, she took the proffered gift. Gazing at the bruised bunch of weeds, she actually felt a smile spread across her face.

"How did you know my favorite flower?" Helena chortled, glancing at him. Was he blushing? Oh Zeus, he _was_ blushing! The monkey had a crush on her!

She resisted the urge to laugh, which would undoubtedly embarrass him further, and stood to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"That is very sweet of you. Thank you," she said. "I feel much better now."

The monkey's blush deepened. He looked askance and scratched at the back of his head, muttering something nonchalant.

It was just the reminder she had needed. Zoro had always encouraged her to stand strong in the face of hard decisions. It didn't wash the guilt away – she had a feeling nothing ever would or should – but it made her feel less alone.

Her marriage to Zoro had been tied up in Ilium's fall, as Athena had just reminded her. And there had been a time, back during the two years she'd thought he was dead, that she had dared to doubt him. She had learned her lesson, though. And here at the end of it all, seeing where all the chips had finally fallen, her love for Zoro was the one thing she couldn't bring herself to regret.


	19. Chapter 19 - Sunburns and Send-Offs

A/N: I'm a bit sleep deprived...so...this chapter is pretty quirky. Sorry not sorry?

And thus end our mihawk chapters, and begin our Amazon Lily chapters.

* * *

Ch. 19 – Sunburns and Send-Offs

"Bahahaha! The Marimo's been replaced by a Love Monkey!" Sanji crowed.

"The only Love Monkey here is YOU, Curly-Brows!" Zoro shot back with a glare while the crew laughed.

Helena hid a giggle behind a hand as Zoro shook a fist at them. She'd had a feeling they'd get a good chuckle out of the Zoro-mandrill's antics. It helped that she'd left out some of the more personal or painful details of course, like what the monkey was comforting her for. –Zoro really didn't need to hear about Athena or Hera, or what Athena had said about the Lotus. She didn't want him to feel guilty. And the things Mihawk had said regarding her and Zoro seemed like something better shared with him in private.

She placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry, dear. I let him know I am a happily married woman," she reassured him, "Poor guy was besotted and wouldn't stop bringing me gifts, so I had to be firm with him. A Helena-mandrill soon made an appearance, so he didn't have to mourn me long."

"A humandrill started imitating you too?" Zoro asked, clearly impressed.

"Why is that such a big deal?" Usopp asked, "I thought you said all the humandrills imitate humans."

"Yes, but they take on a bunch of traits from _all_ the people they've seen," Zoro explained. "There were lots of humandrills who copied my sword-style, but only one who decided he wanted to _be_ me. Same with Mihawk. That Helena had a humandrill doppelganger means that it respected her enough to take on her traits almost exclusively, and to completely master her sword style."

"So the Zoro-mandrill fell hard for the Helena-mandrill?" Sanji asked, throwing a wink at Helena. "Let me guess. They started out rivals but were madly in love within a few days."

Helena flushed and grinned sheepishly. "They got married before I left."

This brought on more shouts of laughter.

"Yeah, it was pretty strange. They asked Mihawk to officiate. I was my doppleganger's matron of honor, Gentry was best man…and caterer." She looked pointedly at Sanji at this, and the cook cackled even harder. "And the Mihawk-mandrill gave her away."

"Mihawk officiated a monkey wedding?" Zoro guffawed. "Wish I could have seen that!"

"Yes, and he did a good job keeping it a solemn occasion, given it was attended by a crowd of monkeys," Helena said, stifling a chuckle so she could talk. "He seemed pretty honored, if bewildered about it all. Now he's going to be forever plagued by our monkey progeny – a fact he lamented to me after the ceremony."

Zoro grinned. "You know, I don't think he minds as much as he lets on."

"So I guess this all goes to show it was fate, eh?" Usopp put in with a shrug. "You guys were bound to end up together."

Helena flushed a little at this. It reminded her of what Mihawk had said; that Zoro had but to meet her to fall in love with her. She knew how the gods toyed with fate, so she didn't want to attribute anything to that exactly, but maybe some things were just meant to be.

"Don't be ridiculous," Zoro interjected. "Our relationship has been an uphill battle. We ended up together because we wanted to; nothing to do with fate."

Helena grinned. She liked thinking of it that way better too. Still, she couldn't help but tease him a bit:

"Don't believe in destiny, my love? I thought you were _destined_ to be the World's Greatest Swordsman."

"Only because I decided I am," Zoro said stoutly, a confident grin settling on his face.

Helena smiled at him fondly and took his arm. "And I wouldn't have you any other way," she declared, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Luffy groaned. "Enough with the mushy stuff! Get on with the story!"

Helena was seriously tempted to kiss Zoro again, just to annoy him, but felt she hadn't been aboard his ship long enough to have earned that right. She _had_ warned him, once upon a time, that it could be awkward having a married couple on his ship.

"How are you even still awake?" Nami demanded, glaring at the captain.

"I spiked his cider with coffee," Sanji whispered loudly to her.

"What, do you have a death wish?" Nami cried, "Luffy hopped up on caffeine would be worse than Helena drunk!"

"It was only a little, Nami-san!" Sanji defended. "He always falls asleep when people are explaining things. I wanted him to show respect to Helena-chan!"

Helena laughed. "Thank you, Sanji-san," she said. "That was quite the daring risk."

"Anything for you, Helena-chan!" he noodled. Zoro swiped at the hearts radiating off of the cook while Helena went on:

"So, it was actually the day after the mandrill wedding that Mihawk noticed something alarming in the news…"

* * *

Mihawk had to admit serious frustration with his pupil now. Oh, she trained harder than ever. She rose early, hardly stopped to eat, went to bed late, was so worn out she could hardly keep a bite of food down. And yet, more than two weeks after the wine incident, she hadn't managed to access the power he'd seen in her!

Perhaps she never would without the help of liquor. The thought infuriated him. He'd made sure to give her non-fermented wine from that point forward. Unfortunately, the humandrills had brought their own wine to the wedding last night – horrible stuff. The humans they imitated had clearly not shown them to make it properly. Helena had tried some before he could stop her.

She'd spent the rest of the evening alternatively dancing wild mazurkas with the monkeys and getting into fights with them. Fortunately, the bride and groomandrill had already left by then, so she didn't ruin their honeymoon, but she'd nearly gotten herself killed challenging the Mihawk-mandrill to a dance off.

Helena was usually an early riser, but after her drunk rampage she slept in the following morning. Mihawk let her. She needed it. Anyway, it was nice to have a moment to leisurely peruse the latest newspaper over breakfast.

His keen gaze soon narrowed on a small, apparently innocuous column. No picture. Not breaking news, and yet in moments he found himself knocking on Helena's bedroom door.

"Helena, I believe there's a problem," he said through the door.

"Whuzzat?" she grumbled as she answered it, groggy and disheveled.

She blinked at him sleepily, her fine hair sticking up on one side of her head. He stared at her in surprise, realizing that he'd never seen her dressed down before. She had apparently found some old, worn out shirts that Zoro had left behind and put them to use as sleepwear.

Zoro wasn't that much taller than she was, which meant his shirts didn't fall as long on her as her makeshift chitons did.

Mihawk narrowed his eyes at her, unamused. "Get dressed," he commanded flatly.

She looked down at her exposed legs, then up at him, suddenly wide-awake. She let out a little squeak and slammed the door.

"Did I oversleep?" she asked through the door, clearly aware that it must be serious for Mihawk to actually wake her up like this. "What's going on?"

"Your daughter's been compromised," Mihawk told her through the door, turning his back to lean on the wall next to it. "A column has just been published stating that Hancock has a new, adopted daughter and possible heir to the Kuja throne. The article calls her, 'Princess Kina.' I can only presume Cipher Pol will see right through the pseudonym."

"It's not a pseudonym," Helena informed him, "She just can't pronounce her own name properly. It doesn't sound to me like Hancock was smart enough to rename her to protect her identity."

"It is more likely that Hancock figured she could use her usual methods to keep the World Government from taking what she's claimed," Mihawk pointed out. "She is a selfish, petty woman, and quite used to having her way. She is usually more private than this, though. I wonder why she allowed such news to be published."

"She does work for the World Government. It is possible she was trying to lure me to her to capture me for them."

"Like me, Hancock rarely does her duty as a Warlord unless obligated," Mihawk informed her. "Perhaps it is a personal challenge."

Helena opened the door, now dressed in her chiton with her swords strapped to her. She ran a wet comb through her short, messy hair as she walked out into the hallway to face him, "Whatever the reason, I need to get to Kuina before Cipher Pol does. How quickly can you get me to Amazon Lily?"

* * *

"As it turns out, Amazon Lily is a hard place to get to," Helena informed her rapt audience. "I won't bore you with all the details, but I did learn a few interesting things about Mihawk on the way. First of all, he built that weird coffin boat he travels in himself."

"He must have made a new one," Zoro observed. "Perona and I crash landed the one he lent us on Ilium last time I was there."

"You know, when I asked him why he travels in a coffin, he told me he and Andromache were undertakers before they were pirates, so it's the shape he knows how to build best," Helena expounded. "I think he might have been yanking my chain, though. He started doing that after the chess match any time I asked him more questions he didn't want to answer. It's hard to tell when he's making stuff up. He says it all with such a straight face."

"I always figured it was because he's so bored with life, he's hoping that boat will be his grave one day," Zoro put in with a shrug.

"That's morbid," Robin said.

Everyone stared at her a moment, but made no comment.

"I always figured it had to do with his brand," Usopp continued. "Every pirate has a certain aesthetic to think about, right? He's got a kind of deathless swordsman theme going on."

Helena laughed. "He is more concerned with his image than you'd think. Before we left, I went searching through the castle for a decent hat to protect me from the sun at sea. I figured, given the outmoded clothes he wears, that he likely found some of it there in the castle. But when I told him I was looking for a hat like his, do you know what he said?"

Helena molded her face into a deadpan expression, eyes hard and staring, just like Mihawk. "You can't," she said, not a smile quirking her lips. She paused for an awkwardly long time, waiting for the others to lean in with curiosity. Finally she finished: "That's _my_ signature look."

Her impression was good enough to draw applause from Luffy and Usopp, and laughter from the others.

"Fun fact, did you know Mihawk also wears that hat in part because he sunburns easily?" Helena added. "Probably why he likes Gloom Island so much. – another fun fact. Mihawk gets cranky when he's sunburned, so…don't steal his hat."

"You didn't," Nami chuckled.

"I may have," Helena said, tapping her pointers together as though she were ashamed, though she was smiling. "The wind stole the bonnet I found, so I convinced him to be a gentleman and give me his for the rest of the trip."

"You made Mihawk give you his hat?" Zoro laughed.

"You think my father is the only one good at arguing circles around people?" Helena asked, grinning.

"I dunno, from what I've seen, your style of diplomacy is generally more straightforward," Zoro pointed out. "And he's not one to be taken in by rhetoric."

"You forget that with Mihawk, I also have the advantage of being my mother's daughter," Helena said with a wink. "So anyway, like I was saying, getting to Amazon Lily was a bit of a challenge. We had to pass through the calm belt, which meant rowing. And while Mihawk's conqueror's haki was enough to keep most of the sea kings back, particularly with how irritated he was over the sunburn, we did run into a few. Mihawk decided to use them as a continuation of my training."

"Makes sense," Zoro said with a nod. "So did you figure out how to blacken your blades again before you reached Amazon Lily?"

Helena shook her head, and her expression fell. "No, and actually," her downtrodden look turned to one of annoyance, "It caused me a bit of trouble. Were you aware that the World Government has a treaty with the Kuja that they won't go within three kilometers of Amazon Lily? Apparently that contract includes other warlords. Mihawk made an interesting proposition to get me to shore…"

* * *

Helena stared at her cranky, sun-crisped teacher as though he had just sprouted a second head. "…come again?" she spluttered.

"It's the only way to get you ashore without getting me into trouble with the Kuja," Mihawk grumped. "I've had enough drama in the past month to last me a lifetime, thank you."

"You're sure you're not just doing this because you're mad at me over the hat?" Helena demanded, "I think it would be safer for me to swim to shore."

She gazed out across the calm water, tempted by its eerie stillness. It looked almost inviting under the midday sun.

"If you attempt to swim, you will almost surely be eaten by a sea king," he reminded her. "Do you want to rescue your daughter or not?"

"But I can't blacken my blades! I might be able to fight my way through the sea kings, but your way will almost certainly kill me!"

"I will use the flat side of my sword," he insisted irritably, as though this should have been obvious. "You'll survive. Now draw."

"Fine, fine," Helena said, but before she drew a rapier, she planted a quick peck on his sun-reddened cheek, then swept the hat off of her head and placed it smartly on his. "Thanks for everything, Uncle Mick."

To her surprise, he didn't chide her or make her feel awkward for the personal gesture. His hitherto furrowed brow softened as he settled the hat more firmly onto his head. "I almost forgot," he said, turning to retrieve something from a sea chest he kept under his chair. "Here."

He tossed her an ordinary silver flask full of something. Knowing him, it had to be more good wine.

"If you get into trouble, drink a toast to your mother," he said. "I am certain her spirit will come to your aid."

Helena chuckled while she looped the strap connected to the flask over her shoulders. "I never took you for the superstitious sort."

"Yes, yes, just draw already."

Helena pulled out one of her rapier and stood at the ready.

"Do at least _try_ to darken your blade," he requested. "I'd rather not break anything."

Helena widened her stance and tried to focus her spirit into her sword. She tried not to think of all the times she had failed to do so, and instead thought of Kuina. Her daughter needed her in one piece right now.

Her blade flickered black, but she knew it wouldn't hold. Mihawk knew it too.

"Farewell, Helena du Helena," he said, drawing his sword. "I wish you well."

She couldn't say anything, couldn't spare him another thought, or the meager haki coating she'd created would vanish. He drew back his sword and swung, striking her blade with a force strong enough to launch her toward the shore.

The water parted a little ways beneath her as she flew, sending up a duel wall of waves in her wake. Halfway there and her haki coating failed. A few seconds after that and her rapier shattered, making her straining arms fly forward. Now practically folded in half around the invisible slash, she felt all the air squeeze out of her lungs. Stars popped in front of her eyes, and her vision threatened to go black as she crashed into a small dune on the beach a moment later.

Exhausted after a day of rowing and fighting sea kings in the hot sun, Helena decided she would take a nap there in the soft sand. But first she raised a shaking thumbs up into the air to let Mihawk and his hawk-eyes know she was ok.

"Thanks for everything, Uncle Mick," she muttered again, letting her arm flop to her side. "You're a real peach."

* * *

Mihawk's irritable mood didn't improve much after dumping his charge at long last. For one thing, no amount of training, rowing, haki, or meditation could make a sunburn less annoying. For another, he'd thought he'd feel lighter after ridding himself of the burden that was Cygnus and Leda's daughter. Instead he had already started to miss her company.

He exited the Calm Belt before sundown and felt the change immediately, like stepping outside on a blustery day. The wind stole his hat right from his head, in fact, just as it had done with Helena's bonnet. Cursing fate, he attempted to catch it with his sword. His irritability made him just a little too eager, and to his supreme annoyance, he struck it completely through, cutting it practically in half.

He retrieved the pieces and eyed them woefully. Perhaps it could be repaired? That did him no good now, though. The already lobster red skin on his face itched in anticipation of the harsher burns to come.

Just as he'd started to contemplate hiking his jacket over his head and sacrificing his pasty torso to the sun, the wind blew something into him; some pastel fabric that clung to his face like a deranged jellyfish. He tore it free and stared at it in disbelief.

It was Helena's lacy, floral bonnet.

After he got over his shock of seeing it again – just how long had it been blowing around out here without hitting the water? – he lowered it and gazed around him surreptitiously. Certain he was alone…out here…in the middle of the ocean…he yanked it onto his head, tying it firmly beneath his chin.

"It seems I am not to be free of you yet, Helena du Helena," he muttered to himself. "Who ever heard of such a troublesome niece?"


	20. Chapter 20 - Queens' Clash

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the unannounced hiatus. I don't know why but my inspiration just went kaput for a while.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: So if you like this story, and are missing the more romantic and fluffy bits, the exceptionally talented Dragocilvio has written a wonderful FanFic featuring cameos some of my OCs, including Helena! It's called A Whole New World, and it is super fun and clever. She's been sharing the chapters with me before they are published, and she has my stamp of approval. It has been really fun watching her breathe new life into my creations. The fic actually kind of works as an unofficial prequel, which is also kind of fun to contemplate.

My characters start showing up in chapter three (so don't be disappointed if you don't see them right away, though I think the premise of the whole thing is brilliant and interesting with or without my cameos). Go give it a read and leave her some reviews. I'm interested to see what ya'll think of her rendition of Helena!

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Ch. 20 – Queens' Clash

Helena generally wasn't one for naps. In all honesty, her little kip on the beach could more accurately be described as an involuntary loss of consciousness. – Mihawk's sword could do no less. Whatever it was, she regretted it the moment she woke up to four strong Amazonian women pulling her arms and legs in opposite directions. To all appearances they were attempting to quarter her.

She let out a yelp of pain, startling all but one of her captors into releasing her.

"You see, Sweet Pea. I told you she's a woman," the one holding her upright said. Helena turned to glare at the blond woman still clutching her arm.

"Of course I'm a woman! What would pulling me to pieces prove?"

"We weren't trying to pull you to pieces," the roundish one called Sweet Pea insisted. "We were trying to see if you stretch like a man. Right Marguerite?"

The blonde nodded.

"What kind of man stretches?" Helena demanded, tearing her arm free and popping her shoulder back into place.

"Well, how else were we supposed to be sure?" a warrior twice as tall as Helena asked. She seemed to be the strongest of the group – a half giant perhaps - and had nearly pulled Helena's leg from its socket a moment ago. "You're not very well endowed, so…"

Helena's face reddened. "Moreso than a man!" she cried, crossing her arms defensively over the parts in question. It was at that moment she noticed that the criss-cross of sheaths she wore over her chest had disappeared: they had disarmed her.

"I told you we should have just checked her for a mushroom," one with dark hair and some serious eyeshadow insisted. She had Helena's swords slung over her shoulders, where a serpent slithered over them, eyeing her inquisitively.

Helena flushed more deeply. "I definitely don't have a, uh, mushroom," she assured them. "Who are you anyway?"

"I am Kikyo," the one holding her swords said, then indicated the tall one. "That is Aphelandra, Sweet Pea and Marguerite." She pointed to the round one and the blond in turn. "We are the Defense Warriors of Amazon Lily, and you are trespassing. State your business."

"Kikyo isn't very trusting," Aphelandra whispered to her. Being so large, her whisper couldn't help but carry. Kikyo shot her comrade a glare, but then turned it back on Helena:

"The last time a stranger came ashore, our Empress fell in love with him. She hasn't been the same since."

"Well, I assure you again, I am no man," Helena insisted. "I am Helena, former Queen of what was once Ilium. I've come to reclaim my daughter."

"The Sun Queen!" Marguerite gasped. "I told you she looked familiar. She has a wanted poster out."

The four Defense Warriors exchanged glances. "You're Princess Kina's actual mother?" Sweet Pea asked, wide-eyed.

"Her name is Kuina," Helena corrected. "And yes."

"Hancock isn't going to like this. She insisted you were dead," Kikyo informed her. "The man I mentioned that she fell in love with? He was your husband."

Helena's eyebrows lifted and her mouth dropped open, unable to form a more coherent retort than an awkward, "Oh."

"She believed that publishing about Kina in the papers would let him know she has his daughter and that she's safe," Marguerite added.

"More likely she was trying to get him to return here," Kikyo pointed out.

"I thought you killed any men who came ashore," Helena insisted. "How on earth did he survive?"

"He is the one exception," Marguerite explained. "Well, and we did meet his friends Dark King Rayleigh and First Son of the Sea Jimbei once. But Hancock only allowed them because they were with him."

That Zoro had a fishman for a friend didn't surprise her. Recent news had mentioned the Straw Hats causing a ruckus on Fishman Island. And Helena had met Rayleigh herself. Thus she didn't stop to question their story:

"I'm sorry, does Boa Hancock realize this man is taken?" she demanded, scowling.

The Defense Warriors just exchanged glances and shrugged. Taken or not, Boa Hancock probably didn't care.

"Never mind," Helena sighed. "How do I get an audience with her?"

"She has recently returned from another expedition," Marguerite observed, "You should be able to find a way to speak to her if you go to the palace."

"Provided she even wishes to see you," Kikyo pointed out, "But in all likelihood, the Empress would prefer we…dispose of the intruder before she becomes a problem."

Helena's spine stiffened, insulted. "Speaking from experience, I daresay your Empress would prefer you let her decide such things," she spat. "Take me to her."

* * *

Zoro's brow had furrowed deeper and deeper through the latest developments. And was it Helena's imagination, or were his cheeks turning pink?

"I have never met Boa Hancock in my life," he insisted. "And I've never set foot on Maiden Isle!"

Helena glanced at Luffy, ready for him to interject, but was surprised to find that he had fallen asleep at last. Apparently Sanji hadn't slipped him enough caffeine to be of much use. Well, so much the better. That would make the story that much funnier.

Perhaps she could tease Zoro a bit.

"I certainly wasn't surprised to hear that the most beautiful woman in the world had fallen in love with you," she said, grinning at him. "Naturally I was jealous, but how could I blame her? She has good taste."

Zoro flushed.

"Helena, I swear…" he started.

"Wait, who fell in love with the Marimo?" Sanji demanded, entering the room. He'd slipped out, and returned with a tray of snacks.

"The most beautiful woman in the world," Usopp clarified

"So Helena-chan then?" Sanji said, calming immediately.

Aw. Sanji could be so sweet sometimes. "Well, of course _I'm_ in love with him," Helena agreed, "But we were just talking about the Snake Princess, Boa Hancock."

"WHAT?" Sanji roared, rounding on Zoro. "FIRST LUFFY GOT TO MEET HER, NOW YOU? AND SHE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU?!"

Zoro had to pull out a sword to fend off a barrage of kicks from the distraught cook. Impressively, Sanji managed it without spilling anything from the tray.

"Quit hogging the pretty girls, you Hurricane Cad!" he cried.

"I'm not!" Zoro retorted, and he actually shot Helena a pleading look, "I swear I'm not," he said to her, but then had to turn his full attention on his opponent. "Anyway, it's not MY fault your stupid curly brows scare away any woman with sense."

Helena stifled a chuckle as Robin and Nami came to take Zoro's place beside her. Nami had managed to snatch some of the food from the tray and sneak it to Helena, Robin, and herself. The three women watched the ensuing fight as they munched finger foods and sipped punch.

"Are you going to explain this is a comedy of errors before they disembowel each other?" Robin asked after a moment of watching their antics.

"In due time," Helena replied, tickled to note that the two women had already figured it out before the men. She eyed the small bowl of olives Nami had handed her, shrugged and popped a few into her mouth. "I admit, the confusion caused me no small amount of trouble."

* * *

Helena hadn't given Hancock time to turn her out. As soon as the Defense Warriors informed an attendant named Enishida of her presence, Helena had pushed her way through the doors to Hancock's throne room exactly as she was announced:

"Helena the Sun Queen, former ruler of Ilium."

The Snake Princess eyed her through cold, limpid eyes as she lounged on her throne, or what Helena took to be a throne at first glance. A moment later she realized that Hancock hadn't a throne at all, but sat instead on the coils of an enormous snake.

Helena didn't like snakes. They were almost as icky as bugs. Almost.

The snake didn't hold her attention for more than a glance. After all, she was getting a good look at the most beautiful woman in the world for the first time. – during the battle, Helena hadn't seen Hancock up close, just her handiwork. And while she wanted to hate the warlord on principle, she couldn't help but admire the woman's immaculate skin, silken hair, and perfect figure. Though devoid of feeling, her face and features were flawless.

She forgot the beautiful princess a moment later when a far more beautiful sound rang out through the throne room:

"MAMA!"

It was Kuina calling out to her.

In seconds the little girl sprinted across the hall from where she'd been sitting at Hancock's side. She gleefully threw her chubby, little arms around her mother, squealing in delight.

Helena had meant to make an intimidating entrance. Though still swordless, she had intended to glare down the Snake Princess with every ounce of queenly disdain she could muster. But she melted to her knees despite herself, and wrapped Kuina up in her long arms, holding her tightly to her. It was everything she could do not to burst into tears.

"I thought I'd never see you again, Kuina Bee," she murmured into her daughter's perfumed curls.

Whispers rolled through Hancock's court, but Helena didn't say anything more for a long moment, and no one intervened. Kuina must have missed her too, because she didn't squirm or make a fuss. When Helena finally released her, she made a quick inspection.

What in Hades was she wearing?

Kuina had on nothing more than a pair of floral panties and a scarf around her chest. – though Kuina was a child, Helena had been careful about dressing her with decorum. She was, after all, a princess. – anyway, it was one thing to let a toddler run about in a diaper; it was another entirely to dress her like an unscrupulous woman.

But more alarming than her clothing was the strange, sickly tinge to her skin and face. She looked flabby too. Not just the usual baby chub she'd been holding onto, but overweight.

"What on earth have you been feeding her?" Helena demanded, standing.

"Hammock gimme lots and lots of chocwate sammich cookies," Kuina replied, smiling. Her gums looked red.

"She only eats what she wants," Hancock replied nonchalantly.

Helena glared at her. – she hadn't realized she had a mode more intense than queenly disdain, but apparently motherly rage took her a step farther:

"What?!" she snapped. "What kind of idiot are you? You're making her sick!"

Hancock's beautiful, perfect blue eyes leered menacingly at Helena from where the Empress still lounged on her serpentine throne. Helena stood her ground, so furious she could glare down a thousand pairs of perfect eyes.

"You have a strange way of thanking me for looking after your daughter," Hancock pronounced coldly, sitting upright. "Kina, come here."

"Her name is Kuina," Helena corrected with her hand on Kuina's shoulder, preventing her from running back to Hancock. "Kuina, you're coming with me."

"Mama, Hammock nice," Kuina informed her, "She reawwy reawwy pwetty. She be my Mama too?"

Helena stared at her a moment, unsure how to respond to this odd request.

"You only have one mother, Kuina Bee," Helena informed her sternly.

"If you're referring to yourself, you're mistaken," Hancock interjected. "You were unable to protect your daughter, and so are unworthy to claim her, Sun Queen. Nor are you worthy of the man you claim is your husband. In reality he is married to me."

"He WHAT?!"

Hancock's icy gaze warmed over, "Yes, he said my name. That means we're married."

Not just beautiful, she looked ridiculously cute when she blushed like that, but to Helena's own surprise the famed beauty didn't phase her. Not now. She was too angry over Kuina's health.

"Saying your name doesn't mean you're married," she pointed out sharply. Was it some weird custom of the Amazons? "At least not in the rest of the civilized world."

"We're engaged then. But whatever the case, clearly he's over _you,_ " Hancock went on, standing. "After all," she pointed to Helena, suddenly looking down on her so much that she was in fact looking up. "A queen who couldn't protect her country? A mother who couldn't protect her child? You're nothing more than a failure."

Helena gritted her teeth at this, momentarily at a loss for retort. Futile anger surged through her at being accused of failing to protect the country this selfsame warlord had helped the World Government to destroy; at being accused of poor motherhood by her daughter's kidnapper.

But what could Helena say? Whatever Hancock's failings, she was right.

It didn't matter. Helena knew that she needed to get Kuina safety, which she clearly would not have under Hancock's care.

"Kuina," Helena said softly, taking her daughter's hand. "We're going."

"I didn't excuse you!" Hancock cried, straightening up.

Helena shot her a glare, and turned to go.

"Wait, Mama," Kuina cried, resisting her mother's tugging grip, "Hammock come too!"

"No," Helena said sternly.

"Kina, come here!" Hancock commanded.

Kuina turned back, slipping free of her mother. Helena turned swiftly to follow her, only to find Hancock standing with both hands clutched before her in the shape of a heart:

"Love Love Beam!"

A beam of pink light struck both Helena and her daughter. The former queen threw her arms protectively around Kuina, but though the beam passed straight through her she felt…nothing.

Helena knew well about Hancock's power. Mihawk had warned her plenty. But Hancock had caught her off guard as she turned, perhaps thinking to pre-empt any kind of defense that Helena could devise.

Fortunately for Helena it hadn't worked, and she had an inkling as to why:

"You have underestimated the anger of a mother," Helena pointed out, straightening up with her arms still clutched around her daughter. "Your beauty is not enough to entice me, witch. That you would dare to attack my daughter makes you the ugliest person in the world to me."

Hancock cocked her head to one side, contemplating her through those clear yet impenetrable eyes. It was like she expected more of a reaction.

And then Helena felt it. Kuina wasn't moving. She'd grown suddenly cold. Suddenly hard. When Helena finally dared to turn her gaze on her daughter, she let out a gasp.

Kuina had been turned to stone, a look of pure adoration on her little face.

Instinct had driven the mother to throw her arms around her daughter, but she hadn't actually believed upon further thought that Hancock's beam could work on a child. After all, how could one so young be capable of lust?

In that moment, Helena realized that Hancock usually fell back on lust because it was easy to seduce people. It was easy to prey on people's weaknesses. But love, true devotion, though harder to obtain, clearly worked just as well.

Helena saw nothing but love and trust in her Kuina's now stone-cold face as her idol turned on her.

"How dare you!" she snarled.

Energy pounded through the room, making every hair on Helena's body stand to attention as she straightened up. It was as if she had never known true anger before that moment. The emotion crackled out of her, a static pulse so raw and powerful it pushed nearly everyone in the room to the ground, knocking most of Hancock's court out cold.

So this was Conqueror's Haki. Zoro and Mihawk had both told her about it, she had experienced it in the past, but she was only just now beginning to understand it. She didn't know how to control it. How to hone it.

Hancock did. Apparently unaffected by Helena's haki, she pushed her own straight back at the ex-Queen. Though Helena tried with everything in her to resist, the power of Hancock's unconquerable spirit pushed Helena, shaking, to her knees.

The Snake Princess sauntered toward her with swaying hips, confident, beautiful, dangerous, perfect. Despite the storm of power, her perfect hair flared but never fell out of place, her perfect eyes never winced against the wind. As she approached, Helena's haki failed her and she fell helplessly onto her back.

Hancock looked down her nose at her rival disdainfully. Her Conqueror's Haki never fading, she placed the ball of her high-heeled foot onto Helena's throat.

"You are nothing next to me, Sun Queen," she stated coldly as Helena's shaking hands struggled to grip Hancock's shoe, much less push it off of her. "Why he fell for you, I'll never know."

Helena grimaced. Before she could say or even think anything else, Helena's vision tunneled, her hands slackened, and she lost consciousness for the second time that day.


	21. Chapter 21 - A New Dance

A/N: I don't know what it is about Amazon Lily, but it is a struggle for me to write. I think I'm starting to find a groove again though. Prudish Helena v. the Amazonian idea of decency has been fun to juxtapose. (Though if I were to make Helena truly an Ancient Greek/Spartan, she wouldn't be a prude at all. Eh, well, she is who she is, and she ain't sorry for it).

* * *

Ch. 21 – A New Dance

Helena awoke to find herself alone in a prison cell, still weaponless and stripped of her belongings. Well, stripped of more than that. When she got her bearings, she realized that things were a bit breezier than she was used to. She looked down at herself and let out a soft curse:

"What in Hades…?"

She'd been dressed in Amazonian battle clothing, which meant hardly any clothing at all. Why they'd thought to change her out of her rough, homemade chiton was a mystery to her, and an awkward, invasive one at that. How dare they change her clothes, anyway? Even though she was no longer a queen, it still seemed like a breach of common decency. These women really had no shame.

It may have been to search her for other weapons, Helena acknowledged. Not that she'd had anything else. Along with her weapons, they'd taken the flask Mihawk had given her, and her crown and chains of office, which she had brought along to eventually buy passage into the New World.

After a moment of gaining her bearings, Helena forced herself to stand. She almost vomited with the effort. Every muscle in her body ached from the haki-pummeling she'd received earlier. Rubbing her throat, she looked down at her toned but scarred body and sighed as she thought of Hancock, and of Zoro.

The Snake Princess wasn't just more beautiful than Helena by far, she had put her into her place without breaking a sweat. What if Hancock wasn't just crazy? What if Zoro had met her and what if he…?

Helena shook herself. She and Zoro were through with doubting each other. For all her beauty and power, Hancock clearly had a few screws loose. Zoro had better sense than that.

 _I just wish…_ she thought, tracing a thumb along her deepest scar where it poked out beneath her Amazonian breastband and ended above her hip. _I wish I could be as beautiful as he deserves._

"Wow," a voice said, and Helena's head shot up. One wall of her cell was made completely of criss-crossed, wooden bars. The blonde defense warrior, Marguerite stood outside it with a tray of meager rations, eyeing Helena's scars.

Helena resisted the urge to cover herself, telling herself that modesty wouldn't impress anyone here, telling herself to own the scars that she had earned. She stood with her chin held high as Marguerite stared.

"You're really beautiful," she said, and Helena's eyes widened in shock.

"What?" she spluttered despite herself as Marguerite knelt to push the meager meal under a slot in the door.

Marguerite cocked her head. "You do not think so?"

"I…" Helena looked down at herself, momentarily wondering if she stood too far into the shadows of the prison for Marguerite to see them, but no – the sunlight filtering through the bars from a nearby street clearly illuminated the small room. Anyway, scars aside, Helena had other defects; her height and lack of curves for one; something the ridiculous triangles of fabric she now wore did nothing to hide.

"In all honesty, no," Helena admitted at last. "Naturally as a Princess and a Queen, others have always flattered me that I am, but I have perfectly functional eyes I'm afraid."

Marguerite chuckled. "Here in Amazon Lily, strength is beauty," she explained. "You are clearly strong and have fought incredible battles, not the least of which being that one."

She pointed, not at the scar Mihawk had given her, but at the faded stretch marks across her abdomen.

"You have carried life. That is a great honor."

"Twins," Helena informed her, feeling a sudden glow of pride.

"Women who die in combat and women who die in childbirth are given a warrior's burial here," Marguerite explained. "We believe both acts to be equally sacred."

Helena knelt to retrieve the food, not just surprised by Marguerite's kind assessment of her looks, but by Marguerite's kindness in general. Helena found her easy to talk to despite the situation.

"I'm surprised you know of childbirth here," Helena went on, "How do women have children without men around?"

"Kuja who leave the island sometimes return with child," Marguerite said with a shrug. "I have never questioned the means."

"And what of male children?" Helena asked. After all, if they killed menfolk, male children probably didn't stand a chance here.

Marguerite shrugged. "They are all born female."

Well, that was a relief. Helena wasn't sure she believed her.

"Now you really should eat before the fight," Marguerite insisted, gesturing at the food.

Helena looked down at the plate in her hand. It wasn't anything fancy, but it wasn't prison fare either: a simple rice dish with some kind of fish, a fresh root vegetable chopped on the side, and a cup of cold water. It looked good, but the smell nauseated her.

"Fight?" she asked, trying to decide if she should risk eating the food when she still felt like vomiting. "What fight?"

"You are to be executed," Marguerite sighed. "For attacking the Empress."

Helena smirked, rubbing her sore throat. "Fair enough. I take it it's a gladiator match of some kind."

"You are to fight without a weapon until you perish or until the empress becomes bored and has you shot through with arrows." Marguerite seemed surprised at Helena's chipper tone. "You do not seem as alarmed as I thought you'd be"

"Well, I didn't exactly expect to make it this far," Helena admitted. "A death in combat seems more honorable than some of the other options I've faced recently. – is that why I'm dressed like this?"

Marguerite shook her head. "No. I thought…well, your husband is a friend of mine too. I figured he wouldn't want someone so important to him dressed in an old rag like a castaway, so I made you some new clothes. Sweet Pea dressed you, but I'm glad they fit. Do you like them?"

"Oh," Helena decided it was better to be kind than honest in this case. "Yes! They are lovely. I appreciate the, ah, attention to detail."

The attention to detail of which she spoke was Marguerite's choice in fabric. Helena's scanty attire sported a smattering of tiny, sparkly suns. She didn't exactly love the reminder of her old title and the loss associated with it, but then, that didn't negate the kindness of the gesture.

"There is something I don't understand," the deposed queen went on, "Why are you being so kind to me if I am about to be executed?"

Marguerite shrugged. "I owe your husband my life. – He saved me, and Aphelandra, and Sweet Pea. We had been turned to stone for defying Hancock, but he fought her sisters and convinced her to turn us back."

So Hancock's powers could be undone. Helena had hoped and suspected as much, but relief still washed through her.

"Did it hurt?" she asked, staring with sudden intensity into Marguerite's eyes. "Did the Love Love Beam hurt? Did it hurt transforming back?"

"Not at all," Marguerite said. "It was like I blinked. I don't remember being stone at all."

Helena sighed with relief, and Marguerite shot her a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sure Her Majesty will transform Kina…I mean Kuina back regardless of the outcome of your duels," she reassured her. "Now eat. You don't have much time, and you need your strength."

* * *

Resting a pale cheek on an elegant hand, Hancock watched from her snake throne as her hated rival entered the stadium, arms cuffed behind her by a pair of long black snakes. This shouldn't last long. Hancock knew the Sun Queen to be a swordswoman, and without her weapons she couldn't possibly hold her own against the Kuja, not without mastery of haki.

But then she caught sight of Helena's new warrior's attire, and straightened up, every movement languid and elegant despite her anger. Who on earth had dressed the Sun Queen like that? Though Hancock begrudgingly admitted Helena had the bearing of a queen regardless of her clothing, Hancock far preferred to see her dressed in the worn bedsheet she had arrived in. This leant her far too much dignity.

"Ready the archers," she clipped aloud, raising a hand in signal.

Her sisters on either side of her gave a start. "I thought you said we've gathered everyone for a show, and you're going to end it this quickly?" Marigold asked.

"She's trying to show me up, dressing like that," Hancock hissed. "I won't have it."

Sonia and Marigold both turned to stare at their irrefutably beautiful sister, completely shocked at her obviously jealous tone.

"Sister, she is nothing next to you," Sonia pointed out.

"You think I need reassurance?" Hancock shot her way with deadly calm. "Of course she is nothing next to me! But he chose her! That means in his eyes at least she is beautiful, and I won't have her reminding everyone of it! I want her ended quickly."

"And what will that accomplish exactly?" an elderly tone chided. Hancock's gaze fell on the unexpected presence of Grandma Nyon.

"Who let her up here?" Hancock demanded, meaning the platform on which she, her sisters, and the giant snake, Salome currently resided. "Leave at once."

"I came to advise you."

"Sonia, throw her off the platform."

Sonia obediently picked Grandma Nyon up by the waistline of her panties. The old lady had but a moment to screech in protest:

"Do you really think Luffy would be happy, knowing you'd killed someone he cares about?" she protested as she struggled to free herself. "How is this getting on his good side?"

"He will forgive me," Hancock insisted. "His daughter's safety is at stake. Clearly Kina can not be trusted with such a weak woman. Now Sonia…" Hancock nodded again to have Grandma Nyon thrown from the platform.

"And yet you have Kina up here, still stuck in stone!" Nyon pointed out. "Do you truly care about his daughter, treating her this way?"

Hancock turned to eye Kina, still a tiny statue with a look of pure adoration on her cute face. Despite her frozen status, she rested on her own personal snake throne with the stuffed fox she loved placed beside her.

"Would you rather I allow her to watch her birth mother be executed?" she asked softly. "Now _Sonia…"_

Sonia went to obey her sister's orders only to stop short yet again when Nyon interrupted:

"I would rather you stop and think about what you are doing!" the former empress cried. "If you're going to destroy someone Luffy respects; if that child really means nothing to you, then you should turn them over to the World Government. If they find out we've been harboring either of them, your status as Warlord…"

"SONIA!" Hancock cried again, and finally her sister complied.

"Curse you, Snake Princess! Nyaaaaaa!"

Clearly out of respect for the self-appointed advisor, Sonia threw her into the stands, not into the spike pit below. Perhaps she survived. Hopefully not. Hancock had grown tired of the nuisance.

"Even if the World Government finds out, they will forgive me," she muttered, "Because I am beautiful!"

She turned back to Helena, who looked up unflinching at the archers readying their snake bows from various vantage points about the stadium. Helena's once fashionably clipped hair had already grown out to the point of looking unkempt; it showed white hair plainly through the gold, the stress of ruling aging her young. Covered in scars, her lithe, toned body told a story of battle after battle, of beauty sacrificed for something more.

Queen Helena du Prometheus was everything Boa Hancock was not. And Hancock hated her the more for it.

She raised her arm again, ready to signal the archers to take the shot:

"Sister," Marigold hissed, "I remind you again, we really aren't sure that Luffy is Helena's husband. Based on the child's looks…"

"You!" Hancock called down to her captive. Sonia and Mari had been heckling her about this since she'd taken in the brat. Time to put an end to it once and for all. "Tell me! Did Monkey D. Luffy actually marry you?"

The Sun Queen's brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, he did," she called back in a firm, alto voice. "Aboard his former ship, the _Going Merry_."

Hancock threw her head back in despair. "So it's true!" she wailed as her sisters fanned her. "He married her before he even met me! Why didn't he say anything?"

The crowd swooned with her, crying out to one another about how beautiful she looked in her despair. The Snake Princess quickly got ahold of herself, and looked at her unflinching captive. Queen Helena apparently still couldn't be taken with her beauty in light of her daughter's petrification. Or perhaps, being Luffy's soulmate, she also possessed his uncanny ability to resist Hancock's charms. – the very thought of it made Hancock swoon again, languishing on Salome's coils.

To think Luffy's resistance to her may have been out of loyalty to this scrawny stick of a woman! In her mind's eye, Hancock saw his perplexed expression when she had first hit him with the love love beam. Memory of that handsome, vacuous face brought more thoughts of him flooding in, of his loyalty toward protecting even his newest friends, his loyalty toward his brother, his fearless resolve to infiltrate impel down.

Regardless of his marital status, she couldn't help but love him. And it was love for him that finally made her tell the archers to stand down.

"Sun Queen," she called out at last, standing suddenly to her full height. "The man who married you is much loved here. It is solely out of respect for him that I will allow you an honorable death. You will fight Bacura, and if you can defeat her as did your husband, I will allow you to choose one weapon to use in your coming matches."

Helena's brows flickered upward, barely noticeable, and yet there was a sudden gleam of hope in her gaze, which she tried to hide by inclining her head.

"My thanks, Snake Princess," she said in a voice steady and calm. The black snakes binding her arms behind her uncoiled and slithered away. "You will return Kuina to flesh and blood when I am finished?"

"She is my daughter now, Sun Queen," Hancock called down. "I will do with her as I please."

Helena's lip twitched and her fiery gaze intensified, belaying an anger otherwise carefully schooled out of her features.

Hancock had said it to goad her. Naturally she wouldn't leave Luffy's daughter as a statue. Still, she had to admire the Sun Queen's tenacity. So intent was she on staring down Hancock that she didn't appear to notice Bacura, the enormous black panther currently sneaking up behind her.

"Motherhood is synonymous with selflessness," Helena lectured as Hancock yawned. "You know nothing of the sort."

Bacura had crept near enough that her smile - crooked and broken from Luffy's victory - haloed the Sun Queen's head. Surely she felt the creature's hot breath upon her neck! But she didn't flinch.

"I will not allow you use my daughter to try and further your end with my husband," she went on, unblinking. And then she turned, every muscle on her battle-hardened body a coil, a spring pushing her airborne.

Lifting one leg straight up with impressive speed and flexibility as she jumped, she brought her bare foot down hard on Bacura's head. A crater spiderwebbed through the arena as she smashed the ill-fated feline into the ground.

The crowd went crazy at seeing Luffy's wife beat the beast as easily as he had. With a flip of her messy, fair hair, she turned to Hancock, a sneer smearing across her face as she pointed a finger challengingly up at the empress' platform.

"Give me my dagger, witch!"

Hancock nearly burst out laughing. Her dagger? Did she think it somehow gave her a chance? She nodded her consent to the ex-Queen's request, and Marguerite came slowly out to hand the dagger over.

"Such impudence," Marigold hissed.

"Let us be the ones to end her, sister," Sonia insisted.

"No," Hancock replied sternly. "That dagger is made of sea prism, sisters. One nick and it would make you far too vulnerable."

"Surely _you_ don't intend to fight her," Mari gasped. "All she'd need is one lucky hit…"

Hancock laughed lightly. "Of course not, sister," she replied. "You saw our haki clash! – She is not worth breaking a sweat over. Still, as you said, we brought her out here for a show. Let her fight Dance."

Marigold's sumptuous lips curled up into a malevolent grin. "Ah, good choice sister," she simpered.

"Dance will end her quickly and beautifully," Sonia agreed.

Of course she would! Dance had recently fought her way to the top of a tournament, making her the newest member of the Kuja pirates. As luck would have it, she was also a swordswoman, and a ridiculously powerful one at that; far better than the Sun Queen could even dream. Hancock could think of no better way to execute an enemy who had once prided herself so much on her swordsmanship.

"Quickly and beautifully," Hancock agreed, and the sisters laughed.

* * *

"A swords _woman_ better than _you_?" Usopp asked incredulously.

Helena smiled at the sweet compliment and took a sip of punch.

"I have a more important question," Zoro said, leaning in to her. "Do you still have that outfit they made you?"

Helena choked and nearly sprayed punch out her nose. Sanji and Brook sprayed another red substance out of theirs.

"THAT'S what you're focused on?" she spluttered.

"Ow! The man's got his priorities!" Franky put in helpfully, laughing.

Zoro shrugged, smirking.

"Well," Helena leaned in to him conspiratorially, but whispered just loudly enough to be heard. "I'm actually wearing it right now. It makes great underwear. Good support."

Sanji and Brook went airborne and into the far wall.

"So anyway, as I was saying…"

* * *

Naked sea-stone dagger in hand, Helena hadn't meant to give her would-be executioner much thought. She had fully intended to find a way up to that platform and give Hancock a taste of her blade. But as the newest Kuja pirate swaggered into the stadium, Helena couldn't help but stop and stare.

Her opponent had waist-length dreadlocks, dark skin, full lips, a gleaming white smile. But most of note: her eyes were a bright…

"Calypso Blue?" Helena spluttered.

Smooth, beardless jaw aside, the resemblance was uncanny. It couldn't be him, though. Dressed in the scant warrior's garb of the Amazons, she was unmistakably a woman. But Helena couldn't help her surprise, particularly as the pirate drew a pair of machetes from sheaths hung across her back. Scratch that, particularly as she eyed the ex-queen up and down with an almost salacious quirk to her lips. Helena suppressed a prudish urge to try to cover herself by once again reminding herself that modesty would impress no one here.

"Blue? No my name isn't Blue, mmm." – same accent too! Her voice sounded exactly like Calypso's but higher.

She crossed her blades over her body, strong, cut muscles gleaming in the tropical sun. The crowd screamed, turning into a veritable stampede as they tried to clear the way. The pirate lashed out with her blades, throwing a slash powerful enough to blast through the stonework of the stadium. " _Hepburn Hew_!"

Helena put her recently honed Observation Haki skills to work, jumping and turning a barrel roll to dodge the horizontal slash. She landed in a crouch unscathed, but with eyes wide as she realized just what she was up against. That move had been practically identical to Calypso's _Casanova Cut._ —and just as powerful.

"Who are you?" Helena gasped.

"It sounds like you've met my devilishly handsome brother, mmm?" the swordswoman grinned. "My name is Calypso _Dance."_

* * *

.

.

.

 **A/N:** Say whaaat? Calypso has an Amazonian sister?

Real quick, gotta make another shameless plug for the story Dragocilvio wrote for me, A Whole New World. I said she included my characters in cameo, but it's not like a regular M. Night Shyamalan, seen in the reflection of a medicine cabinet, The Village type cameo. This is more of an, inserted into the main plot(s), Lady in the Water type of cameo. So go give it a read, leave her a review if you like (because I've been stalking her reviews to see if any of yall head over there). What? I'm interested to see what my readers think of her version of Helena!...and Cygnus. And Calypso. Even a brief mention of Troy coming up. ...sorry,spoilers much?


	22. Chapter 22 - Blue's Clues

Ch. 22 – Blue's Clues

There was something off about Dance.

Helena couldn't quite put her finger on it right away. Something about the way she walked and talked. Something in how her moves were just as powerful as Calypso's. More than just siblings, they were so alike she had to be Calypso's twin, from the muscle tone to personality.

"Impressive, mmm," Dance simpered, spinning one of the machete around her hand as she looked Helena up and down with that same, lecherous smirk her so-called brother had. "You're pretty quick on your feet, and your Observation Haki is stronger than I rem…is strong. But you can't keep it up forever, mmm."

Though Helena longed to give Hancock a parting scar to remember her by, her executioner kept her full attention. The dagger had proven thus far useless against Dance except to redirect the occasional close-range blow. Perhaps she should have asked for one of her swords.

It didn't help that she hadn't managed to keep down any of the food Marguerite had offered her earlier. Shaking, she'd entered the fight on an empty stomach, and even now felt queasy. Dance was right; Helena wouldn't last much longer.

"Monroe Mince!"

Dance's next attack came in a quick succession of slashes, aimed at Helena's feet, forcing her to dance on her tippy toes to dodge away. Fortunately, she was pretty skilled in that regard, but Dance laughed at her all the same.

"So how do you know my brother?" she asked, smirking through her mirth as she sauntered toward her prey.

That's what was off about her walk. She walked like a man!

Dance continued in a self-assured tone, "Are you one of his many lovers, mmm?"

Her voice sounded like falsetto. That, "Mmm," sounded like a suppressed, " _Mon_."

Helena let out a chuff. "Hades, no!" she cried emphatically, "He was a _terrible_ kisser."

Dance's face unexpectedly darkened. Helena's lip curled as her suspicions multiplied:

"He totally smelled like cheese…"

"Hmph!" Dance let out a masculine grunt.

"And he was just so _tiny,"_ Helena finished with gusto, "I mean, you know what they say about men with small feet."

"Shut up!" Dance snarled, her voice deepening noticeably. She lunged forward, slashing hard enough to throw a cut.

Only this time instead of destroying the stands, she'd accidentally slash toward Hancock's platform.

Helena had purposely placed herself in that precise position, trying to set up an opportunity like this. Instead of trying to dodge the slash, she took it head on, blocking it with her dagger. The unfocused but powerful attack threw her hard onto the platform holding the snake princess and her sisters.

Hancock sidestepped the slash, but failed to fully dodge Helena as the 'lesser' threat. In seconds, Helena had her in a choke hold, her sea prism dagger barely digging into the Snake Princess' throat. Salome the snake tried to come to her master's aid, but Helena brought a swift heel down on its head, stunning it.

Sandersonia and Marigold reacted instantly, transforming themselves into two enormous snakes. Helena glared up at them, letting loose the faintest trickle of their sister's blood.

"Trust me. I won't hesitate to kill my daughter's kidnapper," Helena snarled as Hancock fell limp against her.

With their empress completely and obviously under Helena's power, the Boa sisters each let loose an angry hiss, but otherwise didn't attack. Helena could feel the a hundred haki-coated arrows trained on her person, but knew that no one had a clear enough shot to get her without hurting Hancock

"Tell me something," Helena went on in an even tone. "If all the children born to the Kuja are female, how could Calypso Dance have a brother?"

"What does that matter?" Sonia snarled.

"Because I suspect that that 'woman' you have me fighting is actually a man," Helena replied, smirking.

Marigold and Sonia turned as one to stare at the half-naked Dance, and then slowly back at the Sun Queen. "That…is a man?" they asked together with obvious incredulity.

Their suspicion was only natural. After all, Dance's attire left little to the imagination. 'She' clearly had all the female equipment, and none of the male. But Helena knew Calypso Blue too well to doubt herself. She didn't know how he'd managed it, but that was most definitely him in an incredibly convincing disguise.

"If I can prove it, will you let me and my daughter leave?"

Hancock let out a chuff. "A man on our island is a serious crime, but not serious enough to exonerate _you,_ Sun Queen."

"What if I were to tell you that man is Cipher Pol?"

The gorgon sisters' shocked expressions told Helena she'd struck a chord.

"The World Government wouldn't dare to infiltrate your island, right? – much less your handpicked crew!" Helena smirked. "Don't make the same mistake that I did. That _man_ is Head Agent of the team that brought down Ilium. His name is Calypso Blue."

"Why should we believe you?" Hancock sneered over Helena's blade.

"Believe her," a withered voice put in. "She's telling the truth."

Helena looked down on the diminutive old lady now on the platform, who leaned on her snake, which had straightened itself like a staff. If memory served, Helena had seen Sonia throw her into the stands earlier.

Hancock's perfectly plucked eyebrow twitched in annoyance and Helena could feel the Snake Princess' haki building. Though the dagger against her throat weakened her body, her spirit was as strong as ever, and Helena didn't have long to try to convince her before risking another haki clash:

"If I can prove it, will you turn Kuina back and let us both go?" Helena asked again.

"I'll consider it," Hancock conceded, and Helena released her:

"Tell your archers to stand down," she said, and then backing up for a running start, she launched herself back into the arena without waiting for Hancock's reply.

* * *

"Surely you don't believe her," Sonia insisted. She had returned back to her human form, helping Hancock to sit upright enough to wave down the archers. The crowd went crazy, shouting for Dance to end the one who had attacked their Empress a second time.

"We lose nothing by allowing her the chance," Hancock pointed out, barely audible above the din of the mob. She rubbed the cut on her throat, then looked at the blood on her hand with her lip curled in disgust. "Anyway, I see no reason to acquit her if she does prove this theory of hers."

"I doubt she will last long enough to prove anything, sister," Mari observed. "She shook even as she tried to hold you and Salome down. She seems ill."

Salome sat up and hissed, a large bump sprouting on her head where Helena had struck her. Hancock idly stroked her pet with long, deft fingers:

"Then I supposed we have nothing to worry about."

"Yes, you do, because she's telling the truth," Nyon insisted again. "And what is more, when she proves it, I advise you to allow her to live, and befriend her if you can. Where there is one Cipher Pol Agent, there are likely more. She can help us to spot them."

"Not ten minutes ago you were telling me to turn her over to the World Government," Hancock pointed out, pouting grumpily. "You always want me licking their feet, and now you want me to distrust them?"

Nyon sighed. "I never said to trust them," she said, then turned her gaze down on the battle below. Dance had yet to land a hit, but the Sun Queen had yet to go on the offensive. How she planned to unmask the hidden Cipher Pol agent was a mystery.

Hancock glanced at Nyon sidelong, curious enough not to have her thrown from the platform for the time being:

"How are you so sure Queen Helena is telling the truth?" she asked in a level tone.

"Because I knew a Calypso Dance from years ago," Nyon said. "She was older than the warrior down there. And she didn't have a brother. But she did have a son. And she named him Blue."

Hancock pursed her lips. "You knew Dance was using a pseudonym but never said anything when we allowed her to join to Kuja Pirates?"

"'She' never revealed 'her' surname before now," Nyon pointed out. "In any case, a second Calypso Dance could be written off as a coincidence. But the name Blue…- as soon as I heard it, I started making my way up here to warn you that something wasn't right. Hearing the Sun Queen's explanation has confirmed my suspicions. I believe that warrior down there is Calypso Blue using his mother's name."

"The original Calypso Dance," Sonia started, "Surely she could not have been of the Kuja. Not if she bore a son."

"Male children on Amazon Lily, though rare, aren't completely unheard of," Nyon explained. "There is generally one every few generations. And, well, our culture has not been kind to them I'm afraid."

Hancock opened her mouth to demand a better explanation, but stopped short. The battle below had just gotten interesting. Dance had landed a solid hit.

* * *

Helena lay face down and vomited what little contents her stomach contained; mostly bile. She'd almost gotten close enough to use her weapon, but Dance had come at her hard with both machetes. When Helena managed to block the two longer blades with her dagger, courtesy of Mihawk's training, Dance had kneed her hard in the abdomen.

Completely winded and seeing stars, she couldn't move to defend herself. Thankfully, her opponent's ego lead to a moment of gloating:

"I thought you were made of tougher stuff, mmm," 'she' trilled in that annoying falsetto.

 _Yeah, me too,_ Helena thought, fighting tunnel vision as she struggled to get her bearings. It should take more than a kick to the stomach to fell her, yet she felt like her body was going into panic mode, trying to shut down over it.

"Seems pathetic to end you this way, mmm," Dance went on, resting a machete on the back of Helena's neck. Dance leaned in, and the snide comment to follow came out in a deeper voice, confirming Helena's suspicion as to her executioner's identity: "I would have preferred some time alone together before the end, my sweet 'Elena."

Helena barely heard him. Her vision had gone black, and she took advantage of the darkness to forget herself and widen the scope of her haki.

She felt every breath of the crowd, the breath of the very stones beneath her. She felt the wind move as Calypso lifted his disguised arms upward, preparing to decapitate her. But in this state, she could see more – the façade around him felt like fabric to her senses, a gossamer gauze winding around him, adjusting itself with each movement.

A devil fruit.

But not his. An ethereal thread wound away from his person and into the front row of the crowd, tied to the finger of…

"… _Cipher Pol again,"_ Helena thought. " _I should have realized he wouldn't come here alone_."

She'd run out of time. With her senses so finely tuned, she managed to roll away, avoiding Calypso's falling blade by a literal hair. Through her haki, she sensed said hair as it blew away in the breeze of Calypso's next swing.

Helena staggered to her feet, her vision starting to clear. Once again, she lifted her blade to block one of Calypso's overpowered attacks, allowing it to launch her, this time into the first few rows of the crowd. She found her target, not in Hancock, but in Diddy de Daedalus.

Diddy had managed to duck Calypso's slash, but like Hancock before her, had been focused on the bigger threat. She didn't think to dodge Helena or her blade until it rested point down into her exposed thigh.

"Got you!" Helena cried. Diddy let out a scream of pain and fell limp. "But since when did you have a devil fruit power?"

"Since taking down your country, you underdressed ingrate. A reward for decades of hard work," Diddy sneered through gritted teeth. The underdressed comment seemed ironic, given the old woman wore Amazonian attire herself. "The Glamor Glamor fruit. It allows me to fabulize."

"You mean to disguise," Helena translated. "You didn't do a very good job. All of his main features are the same."

"Help me, Dimitri," Diddy croaked, drawing something on the stonework of the stand with a piece of fabric chalk. "I can't be taken out by such a tacky woman."

Helena hadn't heard that name before, but she wasn't about to let Diddy call in reinforcements. She yanked her dagger free, and knocked Diddy out with the butt of the blade.

Sure enough, the glamor around Calypso faded, drawing loud gasps from the crowd. His mouth dropped open as he sensed the change. He looked down at himself, then up at Helena and swore.

Still dressed in the scant attire of the Kuja, Calypso stood exposed in all his manly glory.

* * *

"Trust me when I say that some people should not wear bikinis," Helena went on. "Stop laughing, Zoro. That traumatizing image is seared into my brain forever, thank you very much. _"_

Zoro just laughed harder.

"Wait, but this devil fruit Diddy had. What exactly does it do?" Usopp asked, looking nervous.

"It can create glamors that change the appearance of someone around her," Helena said. "I don't know the scope of it, or whether it applies to just people, but that's what it looks like based on what I've seen."

"So not only are we up against a Cipher Pol team, you're telling us they could look different every time we see them?" Usopp pointed out, clearly terrified. "They could be anywhere!"

"Um," Helena paused. "Well, I guess. Yes. But remember, she couldn't really disguise Calypso's main features. I think the power has its limits."

"Every devil fruit has a learning curve. She may improve over time," Robin pointed out. "If Diddy had only recently acquired her power, then it makes sense that her glamor of Calypso Blue would be basic, to the point that underneath it he had to wear the actual clothing his persona needed."

"Ugh…don't remind me," Helena shivered. "Zoro, if you actually picture what I'm saying you'd stop laughing and probably barf."

"My imagination stopped at his bewildered expression, trust me," Zoro assured her.

Helena got a mischievous look on her face: "His bikini was neon pink," she said.

Zoro gagged. "WHY DID YOU TELL ME THAT?"

"With little yellow polka dots!"

"STOP!"

"Did I mention it was a string bikini?"

Zoro ran out of the room to go puke over the side of the Sunny. When he got back, he'd been doused again in rain and looked extremely put out.

"You just had to share the full image, didn't you," he grumped.

Helena grinned and shrugged. "Just sharing the love."

"Ow!" Franky put in, "This guy sounds like a superrrrr pervert!"

Helena rolled her eyes, "You have no idea."

* * *

Calypso recovered quickly after the initial shock of having his glamor fade. Removing his obviously useless bikini top with a flourish, he shamelessly flexed his muscles for the world to see:

"Get a good look, ladies!" he pronounced, all falsetto completely abandoned. "This is what a man looks like, mon. You know you want some of this!"

Helena rolled her eyes at Calypso's grandstanding. Then she noticed that every last woman in the stadium had varying degrees of nosebleed.

"What is this?" someone cried.

"I don't understand," said another.

"Is this a plague?"

"The man has brought a plague!"

"This is why men are banned here! Drive the plague-bringer from the island!"

Helena stifled a laugh, grateful that Calypso had drawn all attention away from her. She felt queasy and light-headed after the battle, and overdue for some kind of reprieve. She didn't think she could handle getting tackled by a mob of angry Amazons.

Hancock gestured with her hand for the archers to open fire on Calypso. A futile effort, really. Helena knew each arrow had a wicked haki coating, but any swordsman worth their salt could dodge or cut any number of arrows. Even in her exhausted state, years of training with projectiles would have made dodging said arrows child's play for her, to say nothing of Calypso.

Sure enough, the master swordsman didn't break a sweat deflecting, dodging, and dicing. Soon he stood amid a smattering of broken shafts, grinning his perfect smile amid loud boos from the crowd.

He seemed unafraid of the women now screaming for his demise. On the contrary, he bounced his pecs for their benefit, grinning as a few women passed out at the display. Helena let out an annoyed chuff, then noticed that she too had a bead of blood trickling toward her lip, which she angrily sniffed back out of sight.

Boa Hancock got to her feet, a veritable bonfire of rage. Even the Queen of Seduction herself had a small line of blood on her face, which she dabbed with an air of shock.

"How dare you!" she cried, looking at the smear of blood on her finger. "I have eyes for only one man."

Well, she was nothing if not loyal to Zoro; Helena had to give her that.

"Don't feel bad, mon. No hot-blooded female can resist the Hurricane," Calypso informed her with a wink.

"Is that so?" Hancock asked. She cocked her head to the side, regarding him with the air of a viper scrutinizing its prey. She descended the staircase from her platform with slow, swaying steps, never breaking eye contact. Soon she came to a stop before him. "I suppose you're right. Only a man of true caliber could not only sneak into this country unnoticed, but earn a place among the Kuja Pirates. We would be foolish to allow such a paragon to leave us."

Calypso said nothing, just regarded her with the same calculating look she gave him. He seemed to be enjoying her proximity, and even dared to give her the once over, letting his eyes linger where they would.

On his eyes' journey back up, they stopped short at a pair of hands held in the shape of a heart in front of his face.

"Love Love Beam!" she proclaimed.

Helena could think of no more fitting end than for the arrogant letch to be trapped in stone forever. But though the beam started out mere inches from his face, Calypso vanished before it could envelope him. Seconds later he appeared behind Hancock, grabbed her by the hand, and spun her into a dip:

"Nice try, but I know all the tricks, mon," he informed her smugly.

Hancock didn't waste any time. She twisted in an attempt to grab him in a headlock with her legs. He disappeared again though, and she flipped to land gracefully on her high-heels.

Calypso called out to her, this time from up on the platform:

"I'll just get what I came for then, hmm?" he said, snatching Kuina up in one well-muscled arm. He'd already knocked out the snake acting as Kuina's mini throne. Before Hancock's two sisters or Salome could do anything to stop him, he'd launched himself into the air using sky walk.

"No!" Hancock and Helena screamed at once. Helena had jumped to her feet, adrenaline burning through her exhaustion.

It didn't make any sense. Calypso had infiltrated Amazon Lily to the point of becoming a Kuja pirate. He could have kidnapped Kuina at any time! Why now?

Then it struck her. Cipher Pol had known about Kuina all along. They'd only allowed Hancock to keep her to use as bait to lure Helena out of hiding.

Right on cue, a withered but strong hand clamped around her ankle. Helena glanced down to see that Diddy had already come to her senses.

"Dimitri!" she croaked, cross-eyed, and she added one final line to the drawing she'd created on the ground.

A silent puff of blue and white polka-dotted smoke, and suddenly a person stood where the symbol had been drawn. Dressed in an oversized, black hoody and comfy pajama pants, the new arrival looked completely incongruous against the sea of bikini clad woman. Helena couldn't discern anything about the body-type or gender of said person through their baggy clothes, but presumed this to be Dimitri.

Cropped blue bangs dotted with bleached white polka dots stuck out from under his hood, which he wore up, along with a dark kerchief that hid most of his face like some kind of ninja. Though he kept most of his body covered, he wore no shoes.

"Hey Dotty," he said in a high-monotone. With a pitch like that, he had to be pretty young.

"It's Diddy!" Diddy snapped. "Get me out of here, you thrift-store mannikin!"

"Sure," Dimitri said with a shrug, completely unfazed by her insults.

Helena wrenched her ankle free and stomped on Diddy's hand, just as Dimitri grabbed a hold of Diddy's other arm.

"WAIT!" Diddy shrieked, both in pain and desperation, "TAKE THE SUN QUEEN WITH US, YOU DOLT!"

But they had already disappeared in a poof of blue and white polka-dotted smoke. Helena rubbed out the drawing with her foot. Whatever kind of teleportation power this was, clearly it needed the drawing to work.

She quickly turned her attention back to Calypso. He'd let out a high-pitched whistle, and some type of enormous bird, no, a Zoan; a human-sized kestrel with long, dark-violet pigtails, swooped in and let him jump onto her back like a surfer. He dropped Kuina as he went, letting the Zoan catch the child in her talons.

With momentum like this creature had, there would be no catching up to them. Helena let out another scream of maternal rage, haki pulsing from her strong enough to knock out any of the Amazons still standing after Calypso's pec bounce.

"Get your hands off my daughter!" she screamed, vaulting the pit of spikes between her and the main arena.

To her surprise, someone echoed her in a powerful, regal voice. Hancock. The Snake Princess kissed the tips of two fingers and pointed them at the fleeing pair. An ephemeral heart shape hung in the air before her fingers

"Pistol Kiss!" she pronounced, firing her fingers off like a gun.

She had exceptional aim; however, Calypso was ready for her, even before she released the shot.

"Sinatra Song!" he proclaimed, throwing a slash so fast and powerful that Hancock, though sensing it with her formidable Haki, could not possibly dodge in time. Lucky for her, Helena had already darted by her side.

Her well-crafted sea prism dagger could handle a blow from Calypso, even without a haki coating, but deflecting it required strength Helena simply didn't have. It pushed her down onto her back, shattering the arena beneath her.

She'd given Hancock the split second she needed to avoid being cut in half. It had also allowed her to fire her Pistol Kiss though her aim had been thrown off.

The bird balked, releasing the statute in her grasp just before the heart-bullet grazed her talon, turning it to stone.

"Turn back, mon!" Calypso cried.

But the bird kept her forward momentum, leaving vapor trails. Calypso's loud curses dopplered as they both swiftly disappeared from sight.

"Kuina…" Helena croaked as she reached a helpless, shaking hand toward her daughter's rapidly descending form.

Calypso's slash had reduced much of the arena to rubble with Helena lying bloodied, bruised, but alive at the epicenter. She'd managed to deflect some of the slash harmlessly skyward in the end, or the blow would have crushed her. - Hancock had maintained her footing as the floor beneath her crumbled, and stood a few meters from Helena. Their eyes met for just a moment, then Hancock turned her attention on Kuina:

"Awaken!" she proclaimed, blowing a kiss at the falling statue and then leaping into the air with a kick of her powerful legs.

Little pink hearts enveloped Kuina, returning her to flesh and blood. – a much lighter and easier form for the Snake Princess to catch in her arms before landing in a crouch beside Helena.

The unfazed toddler blinked up at Hancock, smiling. "Hi!" she proclaimed, with a giggle.

Hancock's face registered no emotion as she turned down to look at Helena:

"That was stupid," the Empress informed her, "Why protect me?"

Helena coughed blood, but smiled:

"I didn't think you actually cared about my daughter til now," she admitted. "Thanks for saving her."

"I didn't do it for you," Hancock informed her.

Helena shrugged as if to say she didn't care. Then her eyes fell shut and she decided to take another nap.

* * *

...

...

...  
A/N:This update is late because it took me forever to decide how Calypso v. Hancock would work out. Thanks for being so patient with me!

And thank you for going to check out Dragoscilvio's story! I've loved seeing familiar names pop up in her reviews/favorites.


	23. Chapter 23 - Motherhood

A/N: And so we wrap up Amazon Lily. There's a lot of telling and less showing in this chapter, but I figured it was more important to skip forward than to dwell on, say, Calypso's origin story. He'd like to think he's a lot more interesting than he is. ;)

I wanted to say a few chapter's back, that scene with Marguerite and Helena talking in the prison came from a real life moment. I remember looking in the mirror after a shower some few weeks after giving birth to my second child, and seeing my stretch marks. For the first time my knee-jerk reaction wasn't to sigh or feel self conscious about them. I saw them and honest to goodness my first thought was, "Wow, those scars look hard core. I'm like Helena!"

I intended for Helena to become a mother long before I had even met my husband. (The whole odyssey story required that my Odysseus archetype, aka Zoro, have a kid). That her journey has somewhat mirrored my own actually happened by chance. However, I'm pleased to note that it has been therapeutic to have a warrior mother in my ethos to remind me that scars tell a story, and that story is a part of who I am.

Of course, being a mother has also helped inspire how I approach Helena's motherhood, not just the other way around. - and I tell you what, the terrible twos are a real thing. So's the "threenager" stage. Help. :'(

* * *

Ch. 23 – Motherhood

"So there are two more agents we need to watch for?" Usopp asked, voice quivering.

"A bird zoan, model Kestrel, and a teleporter named Dimitri," Nami put in, nodding. She'd written down a list, and looked over it with an anxious crease between her brows. "And Diddy now has a devil fruit power. With Bags, that makes eight total agents, and over half of them have devil fruits."

"There could be more," Helena admitted. "Those are just the ones I know about."

Robin nodded. "Cipher Pol teams don't always deploy all of their members in one place."

"As we are well aware," Usopp said with a shudder. "I'm curious to know why Cipher Pol sent this Calypso guy to Amazon Lily to capture you, when there are plenty of female members on his team."

"It's because he knew the area," Helena said, "He grew up there."

Several looks of shock met this pronouncement. Helena smirked, "Grandma Nyon, Hancock's self-appointed advisor, told me all about it as I helped them search out any more Cipher Pol agents. Apparently, Calypso's mother, Dance decided to hide the fact that he was a boy. She named him Blue as a secret nod to who he was"

"So, she dressed him up as a girl as a kid," Sanji put in with a shudder, a traumatized look passing over his face. "Poor guy."

"Given the style of clothes on Amazon Lily, poor guy indeed. Not that he'd have known much different, having grown up there," Helena explained with a nod, "Though they tell me it's this incident that sparked the trend of walking around in panties instead of skirts and pants. Their scant clothes are in part to prevent men from hiding among them successfully."

"Panties?" Brook asked, perking up.

Helena ignored him. "Nyon said that at around age twelve he was discovered. The Empress at the time gave the order to have him executed, and his mother with him for having tried to hide his identity. He and his mother fled the island and no one had heard anything of them since. "

"Guess all this explains why he's such a woman hater," Zoro observed. "And where he learned to use haki."

"From what I could pick up, his strength quickly surpassed some of the most skilled, adult fighters there. He was well versed with haki at a young age, and obviously proficient with pretending to be something he wasn't. I can only presume he fell in with the World Government at some point, and they snapped him right up."

Helena paused, then back tracked. "– well, he's pretty bad at pretending to be a woman I guess. As a boy he could pretend to be a girl, but as he grew up, he apparently exuded so much masculine energy he couldn't keep it contained. – at least according to Nyon, that's why he was caught. It wasn't any sort of wardrobe malfunction or slip up, it just became obvious by his aura alone."

Zoro rolled his eyes. "I believe it."

"So Nyon told you all this while you were searching out Cipher Pol Agents?" Robin asked, bringing the topic back to the list Nami had compiled. "Did you find any more there?"

Helena shook her head. "I think they were pulled as soon as the government realized that Calypso and Diddy had been exposed."

"Did Hancock at least reward you for your efforts?" Nami asked hopefully.

"Ah, not really," Helena chuckled. "She tried to have me executed again."

"Seriously?" the crew cried.

"Seriously." Helena replied.

* * *

Helena stared at the Snake Princess, for a moment at a loss for words.

"You seem confused," Hancock observed sadistically, "What part of your complete lack of usefulness don't you understand? You have failed to turn up any Cipher Pol agents, so I see no reason to acquit you."

"I proved that Calypso at least was Cipher Pol, and I drew out his accomplice from the crowd," Helena chuffed.

"You proved that there was a male kidnapper disguised among us, not necessarily that he or his accomplice was Cipher Pol," Hancock pointed out.

Helena stood flabbergasted before Hancock's court, having just returned with Grandma Nyon to report that any remaining Cipher Pol agents must have been pulled, or at least the ones that Helena would recognize. Cipher Pol had failed in their mission to capture herself and her daughter, and clearly had no real reason to stay.

"Your Majesty, this is ridiculous!" Nyon cried. "You only want her executed because you want her husband! You know she's telling the truth."

"Hmph, well, out of respect for him, I'll allow you one final chance at your life," Hancock said. Helena noticed that she didn't even attempt to deny wanting to kill her to get another go at her husband. "Kina, come here."

Kuina had been playing with her little snake friend, allowing it to chase her about the courtroom. She'd shouted with laughter, oblivious to the serious adult conversation going on. Helena had tried to stem this display at first, in part nervous about the snake, but Hancock had stonewalled any attempt to call the child to order, saying 'Kina' could do whatever she pleased.

Hancock had to call her name two more time before she would listen. As Helena remembered, Kuina used to be far more obedient. At last she came to stand between the two women, clutching her fox plush as her snake circled about her playfully.

"We will allow Kina to choose," Hancock proclaimed. "If she chooses you, I'll allow you to leave together, and even provide means for your travel. If she chooses me, I'll have you executed on the spot.

"Kina," she bent down so she could look at Kuina at eye level. "Who would you like to be your mother?"

Helena could hardly believe what she was hearing. It took all the courtly composure she possessed to keep her jaw from dropping. She was so flabbergasted in fact that she lost all retort and just stared as her daughter's brow furrowed in confusion.

"That my mama," Kuina said, pointing to Helena.

Helena breathed a sigh of relief.

"I didn't ask who your mama is," Hancock explained, "I asked who you would like her to be. Remember, here you can do whatever you like. Eat as many cookies as you like. Stay up past bedtime. – here, no one can make you do anything."

"Are you seriously trying to bribe my two-year-old?" Helena asked flatly.

"Hammock be my mama?" Kuina asked Helena.

"No." Helena said emphatically, looking her in the eyes the way she always did when she wanted desperately for her to learn or do the right thing.

"Yes," Hancock wheedled, drawing the child's gaze. "Come here, Kina, and you can stay by my side forever."

A look came over Kuina's face; the same look that had frozen on her features when she had turned to stone. The viper had charmed her yet again.

She toddled over to Hancock's side, her new pet slithering in her wake. She took Hancock's hand and hid behind her leg from Helena's reproachful stare. Murmurs swept through the court. Helena's jaw clenched inside her mouth.

Hancock burst into a beautiful peel of laughter at her triumph. "Not like that, Kina," she insisted, pointing a finger at Helena, "You must show her your absolute disdain. Like this!" she bent over backward, looking down so hard that her nose pointed straight into the air. She pointed a mocking finger at Helena, perfectly resplendent in her triumph.

And Kuina mimicked her.

With a hand on her hip and her finger pointed toward her mother, the little princess perfectly matched Hancock's pose of ultimate disdain. The court burst into peals of delighted, derisive laughter.

Helena sighed.

She had kept a straight face through it all, but now she allowed a hint of anger to furrow her brow.

"Boa Hancock," she said in a quiet voice, and yet somehow the intensity of her tone quieted everyone in the room, "You go too far."

"Bind her," Hancock said, all smiles as she snapped her fingers.

At the signal, the two black snakes that had bound Helena earlier slithered into view. Helena hardly spared them a glance before she had raised her hard-won dagger and cut them both in two. Without pause she walked with even steps toward her still deriding daughter, lifted a foot and toe-pinched the little scamp right on the cheek.

"That is NOT how a true princess behaves," she said sternly as Kuina squealed in pain. "What would your Father say?"

"Owie owie owie! Hammock, help!"

"We've taught you better than this," Helena went on, gaze still on her daughter, though she pointed her sea prism dagger warningly in Hancock's direction. "Come on, Kuina. We're going."

She scooped her daughter up and threw her over one shoulder, then turned to leave as the court stared on in a stunned silence.

Naturally Hancock wouldn't take this sitting down.

"Where do you think you're going?" she cried in shock.

Helena kept walking, ignoring the childish woman, and Kuina, who had launched into a full blown tantrum from her shoulder.

Hancock's guards quickly shut the doors, blocking Helena's way with snake bows drawn.

"Did you think we would just let you waltz out of here?" Hancock demanded over Kuina's unintelligible screeching. "Even if you managed to get out of the palace, you couldn't sail off of this island without help!"

Helena paused, flipping her dagger once around her hand, weighing her next move. She would build a raft or commandeer a ship. She could handle the sea kings, provided she was well enough. But getting away from Hancock would be a trick.

"You aren't strong enough to protect her," Hancock insisted. "You've already failed her. You're not fit to be called her mother!"

" _I'm_ not fit?" Helena exclaimed, turning to glance over her unoccupied shoulder at Hancock. "Just a month in your care, and you've almost undone years of hard work. If I leave her here, she'll turn into a vain, selfish brat like you! Oof! Kuina! Stop that!"

Her daughter had just kicked her in the chest. Helena retaliated with a swift swat to her daughter's behind.

"Ha!" Hancock tossed her hair. "Vain, selfish, but strong enough to protect my own people. So you'd really rather she turn out weak and useless, like you?"

"I won't allow you to use her," Helena replied firmly, turning back to face the guards blocking her way.

Their eyes widened, and they each loosed an arrow. Helena swayed her head one way and then the other, dodging the shafts with ease. The guards then dove aside as, gripping Kuina tightly, the Sun Queen drew her dagger and threw a slash that blew completely through the throne room doors.

"I won't allow you take Luffy's daughter from me!" Hancock boomed. The wave of haki pulsing off of her silenced everyone, even the tantruming Kuina. " _Pistol Kiss!"_

"Luffy's…?" Helena started, but she couldn't finish the thought. She had to turn quickly to knock aside the luminous, flying heart with her dagger.

The court all stared at Hancock with perfect admiration. Hancock stared at Helena with candid disdain. And Helena stared back at her with a look of utmost confusion on her face.

"This isn't Luffy's child," she said after a pregnant pause. "Her father is Roronoa Zoro, Luffy's first mate."

Hancock's mouth dropped open. "You're telling me you cheated on my precious Luffy with his closest friend?" she cried, rage burning so intensely within her that waves of heat lifted her hair.

"No!" Helena spluttered. Her lip twitched repeatedly, torqueing her already non-plussed expression. "I'm _married_ to Roronoa Zoro!"

"You said you were married to Luffy!" Hancock insisted.

"You asked if Luffy married me!" Helena shot back. "He did! He was the Captain of the Going Merry! Zoro and I had the wedding aboard his ship, so he married us!"

Hancock's rage faltered. Her hair stopped flaring. Her eyes shone vulnerably from her face. "So…you're… _not_ married to Luffy?" she asked meekly.

"No." Helena repeated emphatically. "And Kuina is not his child."

Glittering tears spilled from the Empress' eyes. The façade of rage finally dissolved completely, revealing the grief and hurt driving it all. Hancock collapsed back onto Salome, her hands pressed to her eyes.

"Sister!" Marigold and Sandersonia called at once!

"Princess!" her subjects cried, swooning once more at their empress' beauty:

"She's so beautiful, even in sorrow!"

"Such perfect tears!"

"Sadness is so becoming on her!"

"I'm not sad," Hancock said, sitting upright and letting the tears continue to spill down her face. "I'm just so, so happy. Luffy still loves me."

"He never said that!" Sonia reminded her, but Hancock feigned deafness.

"…he is still my tried and true husband!"

"You're not married to him," Marigold attempted.

"And that makes us practically sisters!" Hancock cried, clapping her hands and jumping to her feet as she turned her joyful, wet gaze back on Helena. "Since Luffy and Zoro are practically brothers!"

The Sun Queen had blinked at her in complete shock throughout this display. "I…guess…so," she stammered, trying to get her bearings.

"Well don't just stand there!" Hancock snapped at her subjects, "We must have a feast in my new sister's honor! And to honor my niece!"

Helena held up a hand, "That's really not necessary…" she started.

"And then I shall personally escort them on their journey," she insisted.

Well, Helena wasn't about to argue with that.

* * *

"Luffy, your girlfriend is nuts," Zoro observed to the sleeping form of his captain.

"She's not his girlfrie…" Helena started, but Sanji cut her off:

"No, she said she was his WIFE!" he seethed.

"No, I don't think that's right either…" Helena attempted again, but Sanji had already lowered an angry foot down on Luffy's head:

"How could you keep the most beautiful woman in the world to yourself!" the cook shrieked in agony, "You could have at the very least invited her to join the crew!"

"At least tell us the color of her panties!" Brook put in, egging on the ensuing beating.

Helena facepalmed at the mayhem to follow. Luffy soon awoke to unwarranted bumps and bruises, but before he could ask what was going on, Sanji had kicked him through a wall, over the deck, and completely overboard into the still ocean below.

He stared after his handiwork, teeth still grinding, when Franky picked him up by the scruff of the neck.

"Ow! Don't take your rage out on the Sunny!" he growled.

"What about Luffy?" Nami asked, her hands clutched to her face in shcok.

"The Cook tossed him, I say the Cook should go get him," Zoro pointed out, grinning.

"Couldn't agree more," Franky said with a wicked grin, his big hands closing around Sanji's struggling form. "Go get the Captain! And then you're helping me fix this wall!"

He wound up for the pitch, then launched Sanji over the side while the others looked on in satisfaction.

"Never a dull moment," Helena chuckled.

"You have no idea," Zoro chortled. He turned an affectionate smile back on her, catching her off guard.

"What?" she asked self-consciously.

The others had all gotten up to watch Sanji swim back to the ship with Luffy in tow. It allowed Helena and Zoro a small moment of privacy:

"You did well," he said. "Standing up to Hancock like that."

He knew Helena had her own share of insecurities, but he'd always admired how readily she recognized her weaknesses for what they were, and combated them accordingly. In this instance, she didn't allow Hancock, or even Kuina's derision to keep her from doing what needed to be done.

Her expression grew unexpectedly serious at his words, however. "Zoro, don't tell me that my successes in this story have made you forget the outcome."

His smile faltered, remembering the jolt he'd felt upon discovering the scar on Kuina's back.

"Kuina will never recover from my mistakes," she reminded him. "And I don't intend to forget it. Nor should you."

He didn't say as much, but he was starting to think he'd misjudged Helena's culpability in the matter. One of the weaknesses Helena _didn't_ recognize in herself was the overwhelming load of guilt she managed to carry for other people's sins. Sometimes she struggled to see through it to the heart of things.

"Anyway, there is a reason Kuina chose Hancock and not me," she went on, looking him steadily in the face. "Remember, I kept her locked away and raised by nursemaids while I tried to run a kingdom. I don't know that I could have done any differently, but though Hancock would have been terrible for her, I am a far cry from being the mother Kuina deserves."

Her gaze was so intense. She said everything so matter-of-factly, one might think she spoke of someone other than herself. Zoro knew her better than that though. He knew she felt, and meant, every word.

"Now's your chance to work on that then," he responded, his tone light in an attempt to bolster her. "Here on the Sunny you can spend more time with her, you know."

Helena sighed. "Yes, I suppose I can," she said, but she dropped his gaze, glancing off to her left.


	24. Chapter 24 - Unemployment

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry I disappeared without a trace there. I'm back from NaNoWriMo again! Yup! - I didn't get 50,000 this year, but I did write 30,000. And yes, I chose to do Helena's Aeneid for my NaNo this year. So for the next couple of months, I should have weekly updates for you! Woot!

Hope it's not too wordy and convoluted. I'm doing minor edits before publishing, but it being NaNo, the goal is word count, which means it gets out of control sometimes.

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Ch. 24 – Unemployment

"You're sure there is nothing more we can do for you, sis?" Hancock asked, surprisingly still polite after their week at sea. The two leaders couldn't be more unalike, and yet with Hancock's insisting on calling her Sis, an awkward bond had formed.

Helena stood facing the Snake Princess aboard the Kuja's ship, preparing to descend the gangplank onto the striped shore with Kuina in tow. She nodded to Hancock's question. "I can't ask more than you've already done," she said.

Kuina sniffled. "Want Yady."

"No," Helena insisted firmly. "Your snake cannot come with us."

Kuina's former pet snake, whom she had dubbed Lady, wound its way across Hancock's shoulders to gaze at them sadly…if a reptile could have a sad gaze at least. "You're sure? She is the strong, warrior offspring of my own Salome. I am sure she can prove useful to you."

Helena gave another firm shake of her head. Snakes were almost as icky as bugs, and she was determined to leave this particular one behind. Kuina didn't need any more reminders of the shameless life she would forever covet on Amazon Lily.

"Well, if you insist," Hancock shrugged, beautiful in her non-chalance as always. At least she had started listening to Helena's requests with regard to Kuina now. It had allowed her to put a stop to at least some of the pampering. "I thought you might have asked for a coat at least to avoid the stares of prying men ashore."

Helena looked down at her attire, shocked that she'd grown so accustomed to it. "By Athena, yes! Please! If you have something I can cover up with…"

Hancock snapped her fingers, and one of the kuja pirates approached, holding two folded coats of fine fur. One was clearly for Kuina, as it was not half the size of the larger. Helena quickly bundled her daughter in it, then covered herself.

"I suppose I can also return these to you now," Hancock said with another snap of her fingers. Another pirate appeared holding her swords. For all Hancock's pretended niceness, she was no idiot. She knew Helena didn't exactly trust her, and so had kept her blades as a precaution."

"You are a five-sword-style swordsmen, yes? And yet, two of your swords are broken. I have taken the liberty of acquiring replacements for you."

Helena didn't correct her. Her blade count upon entering Amazon Lily had been three intact and two broken if she included the one Mihawk had shattered throwing her into the island. But with her eyes on the replacements Hancock had in mind, Helena wasn't about to argue otherwise.

"These are beautiful," she said, taking one of the new long, thin rapier in hand and admiring its sheath. It was of a flexible bronze metal, covered in fine, snake filigree. Clearly the work of a true artist, it was still nothing to the blade itself. Helena drew it reverently, listening to its song on the metal casing as it came free.

The blade, wicked as a fang, gleamed pure white in the morning sunlight, a thin line of excellent steel.

"They were crafted by a technique known only on Maiden Isle," Hancock said, taking the other blade, which still stood in its sheath. She bent it into a coil, hardly straining with the effort though it did require some strength. "It is so fine it can bend easily. The sheaths can be worn as belts or jewelry, but the blade will always come out straight when drawn."

She held the hilt toward Helena, who pulled it free. Sure enough it came out straight, just like the other blade she still held.

"This is incredible craftsmenship," Helena remarked. "Thank you. I will treasure these blades."

"Treasure them as you treasure our sisterhood," Hancock insisted.

Helena smiled awkwardly. She was pretty sure said sisterhood wasn't a thing, but etiquette dictated she didn't say as much. Especially not after such hospitality.

She wrapped the two sheaths about her waist, where they gleamed like jeweled belts around her worn naval. Then she took the remaining sword she'd won on Gloom Island and strapped it to her side, opposite her dagger.

"Shall we toss the broken blades?" Hancock asked.

"No," Helena said, retrieving her mother's broken sword and strapping its sheath to her back. "Well, at least no this one."

When she had everything situated, she inclined her head toward the Snake Princess and took her leave, thanking her again for her hospitality. Kuina ran forward and hugged Hancock about the legs, all sniffles and tears:

"I miss you," she insisted.

Hancock ruffed her curls. "Farewell, Kina, my precious niece. Always remember that you are beholden to none. True beauty bows to no one."

Helena didn't know whether she liked this advice, or if Kuina even understood it. Then again, maybe it did have a nice message to it. The child beamed and took a step to go, then turned back to wave up at her once foster mother with a heart-meltingly brave smile. "Bye bye, Hammock. Be good!"

Hancock flushed. "Restrain me sisters! Restrain me!" she cried suddenly, grabbing her leg as it twitched. "I can kick a kitten or a baby seal, and you will all forgive me. But not Kina! Never Kina! If I kick her, I shan't forgive myself!"

Marigold and Sandersonia quickly jumped in to hold their sister back.

"Sorry, she…has this thing about kicking cute things," Mari explained.

"And Kina is the cutest thing any of us have ever seen," Sonia added.

Helena just nodded, pulling Kuina out of the danger zone. They had had to provide this explanation to her a few times on their journey. Apparently, Hancock didn't just like to kick cute things out of spite; she simply couldn't help herself.

"Someone bring me a floppy-eared bunny! Quickly! I must vent this energy!"

Soon a bunny went sailing through the sky. They had had to keep a few on hand ever since Kuina came around. With her cuteness rage now abated, Hancock turned to give them a proper send off:

"Farewell, Sun Queen," she said regally. "Keep my precious niece safe."

Helena nodded. "Farewell, Snake Princess. And thank you again for your hospitality. Kuina, for the last time, you can't bring Lady!"

She tugged her daughter away from the snake, ignoring her screams of protest. The snake hissed in rage, and Hancock trod on the tip of its tail to keep it from slithering after the little princess. Soon Helena stood at the bottom of the gangplank, her feet just touching striped ground when Hancock couldn't seem to contain herself.

"Say hello to my sweet Luffy for me, Sis!" she squealed.

Helena waved at her awkwardly. "I will," she promised.

* * *

Despite Sanji's insistence that his hands were sacred and could not be risked with a hammer and nails, Franky shanghaied his help to fix the wall. Not that the cook had to do much. Franky could move with impressive speed, and soon had a temporary fix up so that Helena could continue her story uninterrupted by the rain, or pounding hammers.

"Where was I? Ah, yes, Saobody Archipelago. That's where Hancock dropped me off."

"Saobody?" Zoro asked, "Why there?"

Helena paused and looked at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Well, I couldn't ask her to take me through the dangers of crossing the Red Line, could I? I'd already exhausted her hospitality…and my tolerance of her insanity."

"The Red Line?" Zoro prompted.

"Obviously," she replied, then facepalmed. "I haven't mentioned where I was going? Sorry, I thought it was obvious. I was trying to reach _you."_

Zoro didn't say anything to that. Helena let out a sigh:

"With the Nursemaids out of commission and Kuina in my care, it was up to me to finish carrying out Code Black. Black for her father's bandana, or perhaps for his Jolly Roger." She looked up at Luffy, who was still awake and sopping wet, "Code Black meant getting Kuina to the Thousand Sunny. It meant there was nowhere else left for her."

Her gaze slid back to her husband, whose expression remained stoic:

"Zoro, I know we said that a pirate ship was no place for a child, but…"

"But now it's the only place for her," he finished, and the rest of the crew murmured their agreement.

"I'm glad you all have taken to the idea of having her on board so readily," she continued apologetically, "I never would have thought to burden you like this unless it was absolutely necessary."

"Burden?" Zoro snapped, affronted, "She's my daughter. She's no more a burden to me than she is to you."

"You say that," Helena insisted, "But a child at sea, a child in a battle, will be a danger to you all. Especially a child as adventurous as Kuina. Not to mention having a team of assassins after her. – I know this isn't an ideal situation for you, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise."

"Cipher Pol is nothing we haven't faced before," Sanji pointed out, then turned googly eyes on Robin, "Right, Robin-chwan?"

She chuckled and nodded.

"Ow! I can child proof the Sunny, no problem!" Franky put in, holding up the hammer he still had clutched in the smaller pair of hands. "And she's going to love the slide!"

"We've already handled her in battle," Usopp added, "We can figure out other, better ways to keep her safe in the future."

"Like keep her inside," Zoro grumbled under his breath, and Usopp let out a guilty chuckle.

"Yes, but…" Helena started, but Luffy cut her off.

"She's an official member of the crew already," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as though this settled everything.

"Is she now?" Helena chuckled

"Yup. She's not going anywhere," Luffy insisted.

Helena allowed herself a smile. "Well, I supposed that's for the best." She sighed, "What a world we live in, where a child is safer on a pirate ship than living in a palace."

"What a world indeed," Robin murmured.

Zoro glanced her way, but then focused again on his wife. "Why didn't you just write to me?" he asked. "We had that loophole in the provisos! I could have done something to help."

"Like what? Travel backward over the red line?" Nami put in, and Zoro shot her a glare.

"The mail is controlled by the Government, remember?" Helena pointed out, "I know they can't keep tabs on all of it, but with Cipher Pol on our tails I didn't think I could safely send any sort of message out."

"You'd think something would have shown up in the news," Luffy pouted.

The others all nodded at him, remembering the message he'd managed to send them through the front page. Zoro smirked. – He was still convinced it had been Rayleigh's idea, but Luffy still seemed to take personal pride in its success.

"Oh, they were keeping Kuina good and secret," Helena said. "They let the news drop a hint of her on Amazon Lily to lure me out of hiding, but once I escaped with Kuina they didn't even put out a wanted poster for her. I had been starting to wonder why the government never mentioned her in the news, even when her existence was discovered."

"Was it because of her patronage?" Zoro asked. "They seemed pretty keen on ignoring the fact that you married a pirate."

"I think that was just out of spite," Helena chuckled, "Anyway, I should have realized that even without the general public keeping an eye out for her, I should have been more cautious. Rayleigh tried to warn me when I reached out to him at Saobody, but I was too prideful to accept his help…"

* * *

"You can't let people know that she's your daughter," Rayleigh insisted. They sat at the bar of Shakky's place, where the bartender herself listened in on the conversation, cleaning the typical glass with the typical white cloth. "In fact, you shouldn't let her be seen with you."

Helena placed a protective hand over Kuina, "Why not?"

"Is it not obvious, Roronoa-Chan?" Shakky put in. Helena thought it charming that the bartender had given her that nickname. She'd never considered taking on Zoro's surname before meeting Shakky, but she liked the sound of it. "If anyone figures out who you are, then they will figure out who she is. The world at large doesn't know you have a daughter."

"And when they do, the world at large will want her," Rayleigh agreed.

"The government knows I have her," Helena insisted.

"The military branch of the government knows," Rayleigh pointed out after taking a swig of some brandy Shakky had put out for him. "And the secret service. But they've been keeping it from the papers, most likely to keep it off the radar of the general public."

Helena cocked her head. "Why…?"

"World Nobles aren't the only ones crooked enough to try to marry her for her power, are they?" Rayleigh went on. "And even if they don't know about the God Powers, if they know who you are, she'd make easy bait for your capture."

Helena gritted her teeth at this.

"At least leave Kuina here while you're looking for work," Rayleigh suggested. "She'll be safe with us."

Helena shook her head. "No," she insisted. "I'm not letting Kuina out of my sight until I get her safely to her father."

Rayleigh laughed heartily. "So you'll trust us with this but not her?" he asked, holding up Helena's crown.

"Are you really comparing the worth of my child to that thing?" Helena clipped back, holding her chin up in a show of regal disdain.

Shakky shot him the ghost of a smirk, while he just laughed heartily over his own faux pas. Helena didn't smile, however.

She had approached them hoping they could help her find a buyer for the crown. She knew it would be difficult to sell, given it was on her wanted poster for the world to see. The couple had agreed to search through their contacts for a cut of the profits should they find a buyer, and Helena trusted them enough to leave it with them.

Finding a job was the fall back in case they couldn't sell it. Helena needed to buy passage into the New World. She couldn't possibly expect to go unnoticed on a government sanctioned Bondola over the Red Line. Rayleigh and Shakky agreed that her best bet would be to pay one of the more reputable pirate crews to take her through Fish Man Island on a coated ship.

"Where I go, Kuina goes," Helena said stoutly. "It's not a matter of trust. It's a matter of stewardship."

Shakky lit up a cigarette, her calm demeanor betraying nothing of anxiety otherwise. She changed the subject, realizing they wouldn't win this debate: "You'll need a disguise if you are to avoid capture."

"I look nothing like my poster now," Helena pointed out, tapping the poster, which lay between them on the bar.

Helena had taken on quite the impressive tan since the time the photograph had been taken. Not to mention that her once golden hair had now gone completely white and had grown shaggy and tasteless. She also had a scar on her temple and upper cheek where Akainu had backhanded her; nothing disfiguring, but it was distinct enough to alter her appearance to the casual observer.

"Unless someone actually knows me, I should be able to escape notice," she reasoned. "And I'll be sure to keep my head down around the navy."

Of course, there was always Cipher Pol to worry about. Particularly with Diddy's power. Helena couldn't afford to bury her head in the sand now, though. She would have to be cautious, but some risks had to be taken in order to proceed on their journey.

"Stay out of the public eye," Rayleigh warned. "You can't afford to take on anything too flashy."

"What kind of job do you think I'll be taking?" Helena chuckled. "A showgirl?"

"Have you ever looked for a job before?" Rayleigh asked bluntly.

"No, but I've run a country," Helena reminded him. "I'm not concerned about my resume. Anyway, how hard can it be?"

* * *

Very hard. Very very hard.

Particularly with her two-year-old daughter in tow.

It didn't help that she was still dressed like a tramp. She'd kept the cloak wrapped around her as best she could, but her potential employers couldn't help but catch a glimpse. She really needed new clothes. She didn't want to beg any more help off of Shakky and Rayleigh though. Once she started earning money, she could buy herself and Kuina more suitable attire.

She'd aimed her focus at the middle-class types of jobs, making a point to avoid the more lawless of the groves. As the sun started to set on her fruitless efforts, she had started to realize that she might not have the luxury of being picky. She wasn't sure she wanted to turn to criminal work, particularly not with Kuina's big brown eyes taking in every choice she made, but with Helena's fighting skill set she might find success there.

Anyway, Kuina was tired and hungry. Perhaps they should make another stop at Shakky's for some food.

Cradling her fussy, sleepy daughter against her, Helena set a course for the bar only to stop short when she heard strains of familiar music. Music from her country! Her toes started tapping of their own accord and before she even realized what her ears had registered, she found herself standing in front of a street performance.

Ballerinas in gauzy, artistic versions of chitons whirled in the street to variations of traditional Iliad tunes, played on a violin. One even wore four swords strapped to her person, and a great golden laurel crown. Helena recognized her as Marie Pavlova; the dancer who had played Odette when Zoro had taken her to the ballet on their second honeymoon. Said dancer was extraordinarily skilled, and lauded the Grand Line over for her perfect pointe work. She danced with two of the four swords in hand, letting them flash in the setting sun.

The music helped to calm Kuina some, and she fell asleep peacefully against her mother's shoulder. Soon the dance came to a close, and the gathered crowd applauded generously.

"Come one, come all, to see a new and original ballet!" the man playing the violin called out with gusto. He wore a white powdered wig, had a face twice as long as seemed reasonable, and lips so pursed he might have been sucking on a lemon. " _The Fall of the Sun Queen_! With music by yours truly! The one and only Bachtoven Mochavsky!"

He tossed a bundle of flyers to the crowd, who grabbed them with the busy-ness of ants to a crumbled cookie, leaving the street completely clean. Helena snatched at one before it fell to the ground. Marie's face gazed tragically into the middle distance from the glossy page, her dark hair wreathed in a broken laurel crown.

Helena raised her brows. Someone had made a ballet about her? Given her admiration of the art form, Helena might have felt giddy about it if it weren't portraying the biggest failure of her life. Lost in thought, she stared at the flyer until long after the crowd had dissipated.

"Something about it makes one stop and pause, yes?" Someone asked.

Helena looked up to see a tall, bespectacled man gazing at the parchment in her hand. He wore his jett black hair combed into cat ear shapes, with a bit of whitness bleached into the tips. There was something feline about his whiskers too – a thin mustache split into three strands on either side of his nose. Three cats crawled about his person: a calico on his shoulder, a purplish grey clinging to his pantleg, and an orange settled on his head.

"Such a beautiful and yet tragic tale, nya. And the choreography is perfection."

"I wouldn't say perfection," Helena admitted.

"Oh?" the man stiffened. "And why wouldn't you say that?"

"Their attempts to incorporate Iliad dancing into this particular number were almost laughable. The choreographer has clearly never been to Ilium."

The man pursed his lips. "You're talking to him."

"Oh…" Helena smirked at the awkward situation, but was well assured in her statement, and so didn't back down. "Well, was I right?"

"I have not been to Ilium, no," he admitted, bating at the purple cat trying to climb his leg. "But I once attended a workshop on Iliad dancing, nya. It was taught by a pair of dance masters who lived there before its tragic fall."

"Gloriadne and Robertus?" Helena guessed. "They'd be appalled. How many lessons did they teach?"

"Just the one," he admitted again, relocating the purple cat to his arms. He petted it, and it purred contentedly. "Anyway, how do you know all this, nya? Are you from there?"

Helena stiffened. How could she have let her guard drop so easily? It had been a long day.

"No," she lied. "My daughter and I are of the Kuja. I have done my share of traveling, however, and spent some time in Ilium before its fall."

This answer seemed to satisfy the cat man. "My attempts weren't meant to be authentic, more of a nod to the culture, nya," he insisted, still looking affronted. "This is, after all, a ballet."

"Even so," Helena went on. "I don't know the name of the move, but when your lead goes up onto her toes like this…" Barefoot, she balanced on the tip of her toe as she'd seen the dancer do. Still clutching the sleeping Kuina in one arm, she lifted her other, "And then spins," she whirled around on one toe, "If you want to add a bit of Iliad flare you should have her throw in double beats with her foot like so," she tapped a toe above the knee of her standing leg, "Or perhaps add a jump and a flutter of the foot here…"

She went on for about a minute like this, with the choreographer and his three cats staring at her, flabbergasted. For a moment, Helena became lost in her culture, and when she came to her senses, she stopped short.

"My apologies," she said to their wide-eyed stares, "I'm sure very few will notice or care about the differences…"

"That was incredible, nya!" the man spluttered, the cats meowing something that sounded like agreement. "Madam, you just danced en pointe barefoot. Are you a dancer by chance?"

Helena shook her head. "Ah, no. I am a warrior, sir. As I said, I come from Amazon Lily."

"A warrior," he said, "That explains the scars."

Helena willed her cheeks not to flush and drew her cloak tighter around her. She'd just pranced around half naked in the street just now! What was she thinking?! Cursed Amazon fashion.

"And what brings a kuja warrior such as yourself so far from Maiden Isle, nya?" he went on, cocking his head.

"I decided to strike out on my own to find a better life for my daughter," Helena replied. "Piracy, even that sanctioned by the government, is no life for a child. Unfortunately, I didn't plan my next move when I left Hancock's crew. I am struggling to find honest work."

"Come work for the Ballet!" the man cried, prancing in excitement now, dislodging all three of his cats. Well, except the orange, which had dug her claws into the hard-gelled points of her master's hair, and let out a number of yowls as she flapped about like a piece of laundry in the wind. "You could be my assistant choreographer, nya! I could even provide lodging for you and your daughter within the Saobody Opera House!"

Helena fixed her gaze on him, and his prancing came to a close, much to the ginger cat's relief. "What would my wages be?"

Kuina's stomach rumbled loudly, waking the child, who immediately burst into tears.

"Why don't we discuss that over dinner, nya?" the man insisted reaching a hand out to her. "Louis Balanchine XIII, at your service."

Helena smiled. "Call me Yelene."


	25. Chapter 25 - Rehearsal

A/N: I think Sundays are going to be my new update days. I like to have time to read my chapters aloud to the hubbs before posting, and that's when I actually have time to spend with him in the evenings.

So when I first dreamed up this series (literally, a dream) it was actually this weird crossover between Princess Tutu and One Piece. Fakir was trying really hard to keep Sanji from discovering that Ahiru was actually a duck, thinking he would try to cook her. And Mytho and Rue had devil fruit powers. - that all connected somehow to this princess with a memory memory fruit power that allowed her to remember literally every detail of everything, making her a skilled historian and fighter (she could figure out moves after seeing them once). Then there was something about Luffy eating green moss that made him glow, and the straw hats saving the princess' country, but despite her impressive power the princess was really lame and whiny, so I improved her a bit (a lot).

AAANYWAY, long story short, being able to bring ballet into this story is kind of a nod to its really strange roots.

* * *

Ch. 25 - Rehearsal

Helena could pride herself on decent negotiation skills. In the end, she talked Balanchine into paying her more than enough to cover passage through Fishman Island. And of course, this was on top of the free room and board. All for just the one show!

Helena wasn't used to having to budget on a small scale, but assured herself that if she could run an economy, she could care for herself and her daughter. Balanchine gave her an advance, which she used to buy herself and Kuina some decent clothes. It came as a relief to see her daughter in a dress again. She limited herself to a few button up shirts and a pair of black pencil-legged pants (-a true struggle to find in her size, given her height). She even splurged and got herself and Kuina some bubble hats, since they seemed to be all the rage here.

Her first day of rehearsal she realized she'd made a mistake. Her attire, while sharp and professional, had not been made to move. These were not her custom-made clothing from back home – the kind of thing designed to look clean and crisp, but discretely made of stretch fabric in case she needed to draw her swords.

"Well, don't you clean up nicely, nya?" Balanchine said to her as she eyed the dancers, frowning at their more comfortable looking attire. "You might find your Amazon clothing more suited to movement though."

Helena brushed off her faux pas, "I wanted to look professional for my first day on the job," she lied, "The lady at the clothing store said this is the kind of thing normal people wear to work."

"Normal people, but not choreographers," the man informed her. Then she noticed that even his cats were dressed in leotards and leg warmers, stretching with the dancers. She felt even more out of place. "Perhaps we can find you a leotard and tights. But for now, let me introduce you to the dancers. Everyone, this is Yelene, and her sweet little daughter Kina!"

Helena figured she should keep a name that Kuina knew to answer to. All that time on Amazon Lily trying to get the Kuja to refer to Kuina by her proper name, and now Helena was using the very name they had butchered! The world could be so strange and ironic sometimes.

"Yelene here will be helping us spruce up our choreography a bit before show time, nya!" Balanchine went on. "She has been to Ilium and has a good deal of knowledge about the culture and dance there."

"But the show opens in a week!" someone cried in dismay.

"Don't worry," Helena assured the cast, who had started to murmur to one another in obvious apprehension. "I'm sure the changes will be minor at best. Balanchine-San has said I can watch your dress rehearsal today to get an idea of what I have to work with. After lunch we will begin changes."

"If you're worried, make sure to dazzle her so much that she won't want to adjust a thing, nya-ha!" Balanchine chuckled. He clapped his hands and nodded to the maestro, "Well what are we waiting for? Let us begin!"

* * *

Helena had expected some liberties to be taken, but this interpretation of her life made her chuff a few times. While Kuina amused herself by running up and down the aisles of the theater with her fox plush in tow, Helena watched as the dancers made a complete mess of the story of Ilium's fall.

For starters, they'd turned Hector into a comedic role. The dancer playing him couldn't be more than 5 feet tall, though he had thighs like barrels. He pranced about holding tree branches, smacking people with them as he ineptly ordered his troops around.

In fact, all her proud, warlike Iliads were portrayed as comically inept religious zealots at best. Helena could only sigh as the newspaper's description of them translated to the stage. They bumbled about under their inept leader, easily falling prey to the marines they fought.

An old, stoop-necked man played her father, reminding her of how he'd once looked before he'd been healed by the Mask of Apollo. He didn't dance much, though he was clearly a dance veteran by his grace alone. He glided across the stage as though on wheels, and seemed to be advising the dancer playing herself not to continue in defiance against the World Government.

Well, that part at least was accurate.

Her defiance focused solely around the fact that she had refused to marry a World Noble though. Instead they had her madly in love with a Navy Soldier, who betrayed her to Akainu.

Eventually the ensemble portrayed a great battle, that included an amusing if terrible dance fight between the Admiral and Hector. Naturally Hector kept smacking Akainu with branches until the Admiral raised an arm and pretended to blast him. (She was told this would later be accompanied with a red lighting effect.) Hector then disappeared into a trap door, which they said would be accompanied by a smoke screen.

The Helena character eventually danced a sad solo, depicting how she mourned the loss of her country, then stabbed herself with one of her swords. The play ended with her Navy lover, repentant of his betrayal and weeping for her loss, trying to fight Akainu but ultimately succumbing to his power.

When Balanchine asked her opinion over all, she tried to remain diplomatic:

"It's certainly…creative," she said. Machovsky had accompanied the entire show on his piano, but from what Helena understood, the pit orchestra would join them the following day. "I do love the music."

The maestro grinned smugly at her, "Of course you do," he insisted. "It's mine."

"Yes, you incorporated traditional Iliad tunes very well into the classical pieces. I liked it very much."

One of said tunes included the Helena the Heretic song that her people had plagued her with prior to Zoro's return. It had also included her wedding song, which had brought her close to tears despite herself.

"Naturally. The great Soul King brought me some of these tunes when he stopped here at the end of his tour," Mochavsky went on. "He traveled through Ilium once, and memorized many of their tunes! When I told him what we were working on, he was more than willing to share!"

"Yes, yes, the music is wonderful, nya," the choreographer cut in, "But what of the dancing? You called it creative, but by your tone I believe you meant something less complimentary."

Helena sighed. "Well, putting the choreography aside for a moment, the liberties you took on the story. Why have the queen in love with a Navy Officer? She was in love with and married to a pirate! If you ask me, that's far.."

"Far more romantic, nya!" Balanchine cried. "Good gracious! If only I had known!"

"Where did the idea of Navy lover come from anyway?" Helena asked, raising a brow. It smacked of Troy a bit, but he'd only been in the Navy temporarily after all. "And wasn't she married long before Ilium's fall?"

"We had to fill in the blanks based on what was announced in the papers. I know the Sun Queen was married a few years back, but honestly, no one wants to hear a story about a married woman."

Helena snorted, but Balanchine didn't seem to notice. He went on:

"Giving her a marine lover brought in the star-crossed element, nya."

"It did at that," Helena agreed with a chuckle.

"But a pirate? That's genius. Misha come here!" he clapped his hands, and the dancer playing Helena's love interest approached. "We're changing your role, nya! You are now a pirate."

"Sir, in this amount of time…?"

"It is to make the role truer to life! Surely you wish to portray truth on the stage, nya?"

"I wish to portray a well-rehearsed role!"

Helena felt sorry for the poor man. Perhaps she shouldn't have said anything. Balanchine didn't seem to care about Misha's trepidation in the slightest. Completely ignoring him, the choreographer rounded on Helena:

"Tell me, Yelene. What do you know about this pirate that the queen married? Why wasn't it reported in the papers, nya?"

"That last question I couldn't answer for sure. Probably because the World Government doesn't like pirates," Helena ventured cautiously. "She was married to Roronoa Zoro though. The swordsman of the Straw Hats."

 _That_ was a well-known fact in Ilium. She could feel safe mentioning it at least:

"The one from the Worst Generation who fights with three swords?" Balanchine asked, clapping his hands in delight. "How does one fight with three swords exactly, nya? Does he fight with them in his feet like the Queen is known for having done?"

Helena tapped her teeth, "He carries one in each hand and one in his mouth," she said, quickly amending, "At least, that's what I've heard. He won her hand by defeating her in a duel."

Helena trailed off as Balanchine's eyes grew wide with excitement.

"Nya nya? Won her hand defeating her in a duel? But of course he must have! She is known for having bartered her hand in a sword match!" he closed her hands in both of his, "As assistant choreographer, you must help me make a number depicting this duel! Do you know anything of fencing? Wait, of course you do. You carry rapier."

To avoid detection, Helena had decided to leave her sea stone dagger and her mother's broken but distinctive sword with Rayleigh and Shakky. She still had her remaining gloom isle swords. It didn't seem unreasonable for an Amazon to carry a pair of swords, right? She also had her snake blades, however. She had Hancock to thank for how easily the blades could be disguised.

"It happened several years before the story of the ballet takes place," Helena said in response to Balanchine's suggestion. She couldn't help but notice the utter fear in poor Misha's expressive face. "Perhaps we should just stick to the choreography already in place, with just a few minor adjustments…"

"Time is fluid in a ballet! Who cares about chronology" Balanchine cried, clapping his hands.

"…what was that you said about keeping things true to life?" Misha muttered, dark brows furrowed beneath a mop of fluffy black hair.

The cat-like choreographer let out a screech and rounded on his principle danseur. "NYA! You and Marie will learn a duel pas de deux early tomorrow morning before regular rehearsal starts. Yelene will choreograph it and teach it under my supervision. Got it?"

Misha sighed. "Yes sir. I'll let Marie know."

Helena watched him go, blinking her russet eyes in surprise. Just what kind of mess had she just made of this show? Balanchine didn't allow her to ruminate for long:

"Come! I know you have thoughts on the rest of the choreography. Let us discuss changes during the dancers' lunch break!"

* * *

Just about every dancer in the cast hated her. Helena was absolutely sure of it. She couldn't exactly blame them. Every time she attempted to make a suggestion, Balanchine blew it completely out of proportion. By the end of the day they had an entirely different show from when they started.

It didn't help that she needed to take frequent bathroom breaks. The dancers all probably thought she was just copping out when things got rough. She tried to make it seem like Kuina was the one who needed to frequent the restroom, but the loudmouthed toddler blew her cover.

It also didn't help having said toddler around. Oh sure, she was cute, but Hancock's influence had made her completely unruly. As Helena tried to work, she couldn't do anything to reign her in. Everyone seemed too polite to say anything about it, but the professional in her was mortified.

With all the changes in the script, even the composer was ready to throw a fit:

"My orchestra won't be able to keep up with all of this!" Machovsky shrieked. He'd stormed off in a fit of rage by the end of the evening, each arm carrying a bundle of sheet music marked up in red ink corrections. "We will not be joining your technical rehearsals until Wednesday evening at the soonest. And you won't see me tomorrow. I'm sorry! I need to call an emergency rehearsal to get the orchestra caught up. No more changes while I'm gone or I quit!"

"So wait, we're rehearsing tomorrow without a pianist?" Misha asked, "The story's changed. The choreography's changed, and we have no music to rehearse to?

"Yelene will sing the tunes for you. She knows them well," Balanchine insisted, shooting her a sly grin.

Helena sighed. He had caught her humming along to the music. Hopefully he could still write it off as her simply having spent a little time in Ilium, not that she actually hailed from there.

"I'll…do my best," she attempted. She wasn't exactly a skilled singer, and Machovsky's variations were a bit different from the folk music she was used to. They weren't meant to be sung exactly, they were meant to be danced to.

"Twila, Ginger, and Fred will help," Balanchine assured her.

Twila, Ginger, and Fred were the purple, orange, and calico cats, respectively. Apparently, Mr. Balanchine had taught them to dance, and now they served as his assistants. They could walk on two legs when they wanted to, and strike just about every ballet pose in the books. They were quick to smack dancers with their tails when one had any body part even slightly out of place. She didn't doubt that they could yowl out the music with impressive, if not slightly ear-wrenching, skill.

"Mr. Balanchine, I really think we should let the dancers off now," Helena pointed out, "They're already two hours past their scheduled time."

"This is tech week! Going overtime is expected!" Balanchine insisted. To Helena's surprised, the other dancers kind of shrugged in agreement at this pronouncement. "We will take a short break for dinner, then we start again from the top."

Helena sighed, then went to collect Kuina from where she'd started playing in a bunch of props. She saved Kuina from skewering herself with a wooden sword, and turned to see the prima ballerina standing behind her. Marie Pavlova. She had a kind face with beautiful, dark eyes, raven hair, and porcelain white skin. Petite but curvy, she looked nothing like Helena, but her skill made it obvious why she was chosen for the part.

"Please don't worry so much, Miss," Marie said. "Mr. Balanchine is always like this during tech week. This isn't the first show he's changed at the last moment, and it won't be the last."

Helena smiled in genuine relief. "I was beginning to think you all hated me."

Misha came to join the conversation. "Nah, we know it's not your fault. Balanchine is always like this," he said, wiping sweat from his brow on a handy wristband. "Honestly, I think we're all just grateful for how much you managed to reign him in. He says you're a warrior, not a dancer. How do you know so much about this kind of thing?"

Helena shrugged, not sure how much she could safely reveal about herself. She went with what she felt was a safe answer, "I have been to Ilium and learned their cultural dances, and I have watched what you do. Dancing and fighting are not all that different in some cultures. I've turned…rather, I've _seen_ a fighting kata turned into a dance before, and vice versa."

"You seem like an interesting person, Ms. Yelene," Misha said. "Come! Enjoy dinner with us. You've more than earned a break! Naturally you should bring your daughter too, right princess?" He addressed this last bit to Kuina, and Helena did a double take before realizing he'd called her that out of affection, not because he knew what she was.

Helena grinned to hide the ball of nerves forming in her stomach. What if they asked too many questions? But she had no other choice, "I'd be delighted," she said.

* * *

Hoping to win over their affection further, and knowing she had a sizeable amount of her stipend at hand, Helena treated the small group of dancers who followed Misha and Marie to a simple dinner at the restaurant across the street. It wasn't anything fancy, just soups and sandwiches, but this seemed to win over some of the cast who still didn't like her after Balanchine's changes.

She herself only ordered some butterless toast. It seemed to be all she could keep down these days. Kuina enjoyed pulling apart her sandwich and eating each bit separately. She especially liked anything green, including the lettuce and pickles.

Helena managed to deflect the dancers' interest in her by asking them questions about themselves. It soon came out that Marie had aspirations beyond the Archipelago.

"Marie is hoping to win sponsorship to travel," Misha said. "If you can impress a Celestial Dragon, they'll often pay the way of dancers to go to other Opera houses to learn from other masters. It's a great honor."

Marie flushed a bit. "It's been my dream since I put on my first pair of ballet slippers," she admitted. "Sponsorship like that is rare, and only the most skilled dancers are chosen."

Helena forced a smile at mention of the World Nobles. What did those bubble heads honestly know of art, anyway? It infuriated her that such deplorable people acted as patrons of the arts; that her newfound friend's dream hung on their generosity.

"I'd be hard pressed to believe they'll pass you up this time," Marie's understudy pointed out. She was an expressive red head by the name of Isadora Graham. Sometimes she took liberties with the choreography. Balanchine was always reigning her in. "That scene where you dance on the tips of swords is sure to get you noticed this time."

"That's not skill," Marie pointed out, flushing. "I'm hooked up to a harness and fly system."

The scene she spoke of had impressed Helena until they'd shown her how it was done. For a moment she thought the dancer had strength to rival her own. It still required a good deal of precision. Even with the fly system, it was like Marie was dancing on very thin stilts.

"Say what you want," Isadora insisted, "I've been working extra hard to have your part down pat, just to be safe. I bet you anything they'll snap you up opening night."

"Provided we can get all this new material down before then," Misha put in. "I swear that man is trying to kill us."

The dancers all laughed good-naturedly. Helena found herself enjoying their company more and more.

"Would you like my cookie, little one?" Marie asked, offering it Kuina. "I'm on a diet, so..."

Helena grabbed the cookie in question before Kuina could get to it. "So is she!" she exclaimed in dismay.

Marie blinked at her, along with the other dancers. "At this age?"

"Let's just say she was spoiled with way too much sugar recently," Helena replied, "When her health is recovered, I'll consider letting her have sweets again."

Kuina let out a loud wail, throwing herself out of her booster chair and onto the floor. She hurt herself in the process, making the tantrum that much worse. Helena ignored her.

"She seems like a handful," Isadora ventured. "Would you like our help with her?"

"I am perfectly capable of looking after her," Helena responded stiffly. "Though I apologize for the scene she is causing. She knows better."

"I admire your resolve," Misha said. "You're sure she's not hurt?"

"Don't look at her," Helena advised. "She just wants attention."

Kuina's fussing soon slowed. She even let out a giggle. Despite Helena's instructions, Misha glanced under the table. He let out a sudden yelp, and then grabbed Kuina and held her into the air.

Helena went for a sword, her instinct to defend her child extending even to her newfound friend. "Hands off!" she started to say, but then then Misha cried:

"SNAKE!"

All the dancers soon stood on the table, crying, "What? Where?"

"It was trying to get to Kina!" he cried, cradling the child, who kicked and bit at him fiercely.

"Put down!" she screamed. "Want Yady! Want Yady!"

"I guess she's an Amazon through and through if she doesn't trust men," Misha observed, making to hand her to Marie instead, but Helena sighed.

"No," she replied, "Lady is the name of her pet snake. You can put her down now, Misha. On the floor. Yes, the rest of you are safe too."

She had turned her sword to underneath the table, only to find Lady looking up at her with reptilian apathy.

"I thought I told you to stay with Hancock," Helena growled at her. Lady let out a hiss, then went to wrap Kuina in a frightening looking embrace.

"Not too hard, Lady," Helena warned, and the snake hissed a raspberry at her.

"Everyone, this is Lady. She is a snake of Amazon Lily, and was gifted my daughter by the Snake Princess herself. She is not venomous, but I still suggest not making her mad."

"You trust her with your daughter?" Isadora shrieked, still as far away from the snake as she could get atop the table, which meant climbing on Misha's shoulders.

The snake had by now loosened her coils around Kuina, nudging the child playfully with her snout.

"That remains to be seen," Helena said flatly. In all honesty, she had seen enough of their interaction to know that Lady would never intentionally hurt Kuina, but she made the comment purely out of spite. "Lady, if you are going to stay, you're going to need to make yourself useful."

The snakes of Maiden Isle had more than average intelligence. It came as no surprise to Helena that Lady turned to eye her inquisitively in response to her words:

"I am trying to work to provide for Kina and myself. Your job is to watch after her while I do. Can you do this?"

The snake nodded, and the dancers all let out a collective gasp, then applauded. "That's some amazing training!" Marie cried, "You taught her to nod like that?"

Lady let out an unamused hiss in Marie's direction, making the dancer take a step back:

"No," Helena replied. "She is not trained. She is intelligent, if lacking in manners."

Lady turned to glare at Helena this time. Well, snakes didn't have terribly expressive faces, but Helena got the idea.

"So Lady, do we have an accord?"

Lady nodded again.

"Very good," Helena said. "Oh, one more thing…"

The snake slid up to the table, grabbing the cookie Helena had taken away from Kuina earlier. Helena snatched it right out of the snake's fangs:

"You are not allowed to spoil her!"

Kuina pouted. "Meanie Mommy."

Helena nodded, "Meanie Mommy," she agreed.

* * *

Helena collapsed into bed that night, too exhausted to undress, though she'd gone through the effort of getting Kuina ready for bed. Still in the leotard, tights, and sweat pants she'd been leant by Marie (the tights were footless. They and the pants came to mid-calf on the tall warrior), Helena stared at the ceiling with Kuina cradled in her arms.

"Want Hammock," Kuina informed her crossly, clutching Foxy to her.

"Well, I want you," Helena replied.

"Want Yady," Kuina tried again.

"The snake sleeps on the floor," Helena insisted.

She'd felt herself generous for sacrificing a pillow for the viper. Lady poked a head up hopefully, but then lay it back down at a glare from Helena.

"I hate you," Kuina said.

Helena felt a stab at these words. "That's fine," she said as though it hadn't hurt. Kuina hadn't known the word hate before Hancock. That she used it at all felt like a shock, but to have it directed at her really stung. "Would you like a bedtime story?"

Kuina perked up at this. "Story about Papa?"

Helena smiled. "Yes. Any requests?"

"Papa fight bad guys!"

Well, that didn't really narrow it down. "Ok, he told me this one when we got to go on vacation with him. Do you remember how fun that was?" Kuina nodded and Helena smiled. "He told me that on this very same archipelago, he and his captain helped rescue a mermaid!"

"A mermaid?" Kuina asked, eyes wide.

"That's right! A real mermaid! – a bad, bad man wanted to steal her from her family forever, so do you know what your Papa's captain did?"

Kuina grinned. "He punch him!"

Helena laughed. "Yes! Right in the face! – Did Papa tell you this story too?"

"Yuffy yike to punch," Kuina pointed out.

"That's right," Helena said. "Would you like to meet Captain Luffy?"

Kuina nodded emphatically. "We go see Papa on ship?"

"That's right," Helena said. "We're going to go find your Papa, and you will get to stay with him."

"Rewwy?"

"Really," Helena said. "I will take you there. I promise."

"Ok," Kuina said, snuggling into her mother. "I no hate you."

"I'd prefer you say, I love you," Helena attempted.

"I no hate you," Kuina repeated.

Helena sighed. "I love you too," she said, and soon she and Kuina had drifted off to sleep.


	26. Chapter 26 - Prima Ballerina

Ch 26 - Prima Ballerina

When Shakky and Rayleigh heard where Helena had found work, they weren't as congratulatory as she had expected.

"What's with the faces?" Helena asked, "It pays well, and I get to pay homage to my now dead culture!"

"Didn't we tell you to stay out of the public eye?" Rayleigh exasperated, "You're highly exposed like this."

"Hardly," Helena countered, taking sip of water. Shakky had offered her something stronger, but even the smell of liquor made her stomach woozy these days. She still carried the flask Mihawk had given her, but hadn't been tempted to open it. "I'm only am assistant choreographer. It's not like they're going to put my face in the program."

"But you're giving away who you are simply by sharing what you know!" Rayleigh attempted again.

"I have it covered, trust me," Helena said. "No one suspects anything."

"You can't know that," Rayleigh said firmly. "You're putting not just yourself, but the young princess in danger. I really think you should leave her here with us."

"I said I have it covered," Helena insisted. "Lady has proven to be a very able nursemaid, and is more than capable of protecting her."

Even as they spoke, Kuina played a joyful game of tag with the snake, dashing about the empty bar and nearly smacking her forehead more than once on the bottoms of tables but for Lady's interference. Since when had the kid grown tall enough for that to be a problem?

"Don't worry, the show opens soon. Once I have my money, we'll be out of here."

Shakky let out a stream of smoke, then looked Helena in the eye:

"Be careful, Roronoa-Chan," she warned. "There are strange rumors about that place. Saobody Opera House is not all that it appears to be."

A giggle drew their gaze down to Kuina, who had come to a stop in front of Rayleigh's stool, her arms raised expectantly. Just like with Mihawk, Hector, Astayanax, the little princess was drawn to the strong masculine retiree, possibly due to her connection with her father. She had hugged him within moments of meeting him the first time. The ex-pirate didn't seem to mind.

"Uncle Waywee!" she called, opening and closing her hands as she waved them up at him.

Usually he would tease or tickle her as he lifted her, but he frowned pensively when he went to put her onto his lap.

"You keep a close eye on her," he said, looking Helena firmly in the eye. "And don't do anything stupid."

"We'll be fine," Helena insisted.

* * *

With fluttering nerves, Helena took her seat beside Balanchine and his three cats (each with a seat of his or her own) on opening night.

Kuina sat on her other side, dressed up in a nice velvet dress that Balanchine had bought her, her green curls done up in a cute, pink hairbow. As Lady had kept her end of the bargain, and had actually been quite helpful in reining Kuina in, she had the honor of sitting beside her with a string of pearls around her reptilian throat. The ex-princess and the snake sat still for the time being, eyes wide as they watched the lights play across the as yet curtained stage.

Then Kuina said something that made Helena's stomach flip:

"Yook, Mama," she said, pointing to the next box over. "That man have a bubble head."

A Celestial Dragon. Marie and the others had mentioned that some would come to watch. When she caught sight of the Noble in question, her breath caught in paralyzed lungs.

Saint Rothbart.

She had seen a picture of him before. Large, owlish eyes, tiny mouth, round face, salt and pepper beard. She couldn't possibly have mistaken him.

This was the man who had demanded her hand in betrothal when she was yet unborn. This was the man who had caused the Buster Call on Ilium that had led to Queen Leda's demise. This was the man who had set all of Ilium's problems in motion.

"Excuse me," Helena murmured, "I need to go."

"Again, nya?" Balanchine spluttered. "Even my cats have larger bladders than you. Fine, but hurry back! It's starting soon!"

But Helena didn't hurry back. She took Kuina and Lady, went straight to Shakky's.

* * *

"Shakky and Rayleigh tried to convince me not to go back," Helena told the Straw Hats. "I knew they were right. But I also knew I hadn't been noticed. If Rothbart had seen or recognized me there would have been a commotion. – anyway, I needed the money I'd earned or I couldn't leave the archipelago. Hades, I needed money period."

Zoro could see the guilt building as his wife rambled. He knew, they _all_ knew where this was leading. The one thing he figured she wasn't mentioning, probably because it hurt to admit it, was that she was _happy_ there. She didn't _want_ to leave.

After everything she had gone through, being immersed in her culture again had to have come as a much-needed balm to her deeply wounded soul. And then there was her love of dance. Zoro remembered how enchanted she had been by the ballet when he'd taken her. He also couldn't help but remember what Troy had once said of her; that in a world at peace, Helena would have been a prima ballerina, not a warrior.

"Shakky and Rayleigh hadn't yet found a buyer for the crown. They said it would take time. But beyond that, I had spent all of my stipend," Helena admitted guiltily, "Gods, I have discovered I am terrible with money. I'm used to being able to be generous. You'd think I'd know the value of the Berri, but it's so different managing it on such a small scale!"

As Zoro recalled, Helena had a habit of slapping money at things when they needed fixing. She'd been so wealthy he'd hardly paid it any mind.

He caught Nami nodding to herself. Was she taking mental notes of what Helena had just said? No, _actual_ notes. She had just written, " _Helena is not good with money,"_ on her parchment. She had better not be planning on swindling her!

"I just kept making stupid decision after stupid decision," Helena went on, hiding her face in her hands. "Why didn't I cut my losses?"

"Helena…" Zoro cut in, and she stopped and looked at him. She looked tired again. Overwhelmed. Broken. "What happened next?"

"The next morning I returned to the opera house. I was informed of an emergency pickup rehearsal. Marie Pavlova had been granted sponsorship, effective immediately. Isadora needed a chance to rehearse her part with the cast."

* * *

It felt wrong. Marie had disappeared without so much as a goodbye. Granted, Helena had only known her a week, and she hadn't attended the cast party that night, so she'd missed her send off. But still; the immediacy of her departure made it feel like she had died or something.

Balanchine seemed in high spirits, despite the setback. From what Helena could pick up from the cast, he'd never remotely begrudged his dancers when they received sponsorship from the Celestial Dragons, and this was no exception.

He was in such high spirits in fact that Helena managed to convince him to let the cast only rehearse the more difficult scenes. As an understudy, Isadora had done the show through with everyone, if not consecutively. The one scene she struggled with was dancing in the harness on sword point. Soon this dance became the main focus, and the rest of the dancers were dismissed to enjoy their day before showtime that evening.

Helena tried to coach her through it. "Treat the floor as though it's made of glass," she suggested.

"What would you know of dancing en pointe? Much less sword point!" the woman screeched. She had more of a temper than Marie, and it was starting to show the more the evening progressed. She wobbled on her swords, which were attached to a pair of point shoes, not clutched in her toes like Helena was used to. Honestly, maybe it wasn't comparable at all.

"At least trust the in the fly system, nya!" Balanchine called up to her. "It will hold you up. All you have to do is focus on dancing."

"I'd like to see you try it," Isadora grumbled.

Twila the grey-purple cat overheard and knocked into one of the sword stilts, making Isadora wobble until she fell with a screech. The fly system kept her from hitting the ground, but she dangled with little grace from the rafters until the tech crew could pull her upright again.

"You see. It will catch you, nya," Balanchine pointed out, giving Twila an appreciative scratch on the chin. "You have nothing to be afraid of. From the top!"

Mochavsky started up the music on the piano and Isadora began. Balanchine gave Helena a woebegone look:

"She's too used to improvising. She can't do that on stilts," he said. "This show will be a disaster, nya."

"But look, she's getting it," Helena pointed out, hoping to cheer him. "Have a little faith!"

With her red eyebrows furrowed, eyes aflame, Isadora was at that moment every inch the Sun Queen preparing for battle, except that she wobbled as she attempted to change the choreography again, leaping from one sword point to another. It actually went perfectly with the music, but the dance had been expressly choreographed without leaps for safety.

"Give her a little time to get it down," Helena said, but then stopped short.

Isadora had just improvised another, impressive leap, attempting to land on one sword point. As she landed, one of the cables holding her up snapped. When her full weight hit the other cables, they too gave way one at a time, so quickly no one could do anything to prevent her inevitable fall.

The stage crew, Machovsky, and Helena let out a collective gasp when Isadora hit the ground with an audible snap.

Helena couldn't be sure, but she glanced up and thought she caught a glimpse of calico up on the catwalk near the fly system. Had it been sabotage? Why would Balanchine's cat want to sabotage his lead? Particularly now that she didn't have an understudy?

It soon became apparent that Isadora had broken her ankle. She was out for the rest of the season, perhaps for the rest of her career. As she left in tears to have her ankle treated, Helena, Machovsky and Balanchine met with the rest of the cast to deliver the frightful news.

"I'm afraid we no longer have a show," Machovsky said mournfully, shaking his head. "We no longer have a leading lady."

Completely undaunted, Balanchine hadn't lost the ever-cheerful spring to his step. "Not so, my dear comrade!" he said, "We have the perfect lead right here. Yelene will dance the part!"

"What?" Helena spluttered. "Me? I'm not a Ballerina!"

"Well, neither was the Sun Queen," Balanchine pointed out, "She was a warrior, just like you, nya! –Anyway, we all know you know the choreography backward and forward. You are perfectly capable, and you will bring the warrior's fire to the role!"

Helena opened her mouth to give a flat refusal, but then she caught the expressions on the other dancers' faces. Everyone looked so crestfallen. All of their hard work had just come to naught! Beyond that, if the show failed, she likely wouldn't get paid, nor would the rest of them!

Still she might have resisted if she hadn't caught sight of Kuina. The young girl looked to her mother with wide-eyed awe. She seemed to completely grasp the situation, and her gaze begged her mother to take the part.

Helena sighed. "I don't suppose there's a chance of getting Marie back?"

"She is long gone, I'm afraid," Balanchine said. "You are our only hope."

"Then we'd best get to work. I have a lot to learn."

* * *

Helena didn't struggle with the choreography. Her insane training regimen meant that physically she had the strength and flexibility for it, and she knew enough of it to catch on quickly. She struggled getting used to the pointe shoes, however. They felt unnatural, and threatened to give even her calloused feet blisters.

Soon she ditched them, choosing instead to dance barefoot. Genetics and her unique fighting style meant her toes were more than capable of bearing her weight. This seemed to impress her fellow dancers, and the choreographer, to no end. He proclaimed it suited the character, and no one complained about the choice.

But Balanchine had one very real concern with her dancing:

"You have no emotion, nya!" he cried, after watching her finish off a pas de deux with Misha. Though she was much taller than he, especially en pointe, they'd performed the duet with technical perfection. "You show no love or sorrow in your face. How do you manage such a stoic mask performing a dance of love, nya nya?!"

Helena didn't know how to respond. She'd spent her whole life learning how to hide certain emotions from the public. Dropping the mask would make her vulnerable, and could sometimes endanger people. There were few people Helena felt safe enough to show that side to, Zoro being one of them.

"She is of the Amazon. Perhaps she knows nothing of love," Misha attempted in her defense.

Helena chuffed. "I have a _child_ ," she pointed out, gesturing to Kuina.

Over in the wings, someone had found a tutu for her, and Balanchine's cats were teaching her to point her toes. Lady followed along as best she could, also wearing a tutu and balancing on part of her stomach so she could use the tip of her tail as a foot. They'd even put a tutu on the fox plush, which sat to the side as their audience.

"Ah yes, of course," Misha replied, scratching his head in embarrassment. "Sorry, but it's really hard to fall in love with you on stage. Not that you're not pretty!" he said in a rush, "It's just, you…you don't give me much to work with."

"I am used to keeping my feelings close to the vest," Helena admitted cautiously. "I do not like vulnerability."

"To be an artist you must be vulnerable," Machovsky put in, turning from the piano to her. "Any fool can dance, or sing, or paint a picture, my dear. True artists bear their souls."

"You have loved before," Misha ventured. "Perhaps pretend I am he?"

 _That's easier than you think_ , Helena thought, seeing the katana props in Misha's belt. _And yet so much harder too. You are nothing like my Zoro._

Scrawny. Average in height and covered in wiry muscle, Misha didn't have Zoro's height or bulk. A wave of black hair crashed over his head. Hazel eyes. Unguarded expression. - But beyond the looks, He didn't have Zoro's ambition either. He didn't care to be the best dancer, or gain a sponsor like Marie did. Though he was kind and hard-working, he still whined when things got hard.

"Please give me a moment," she said, walking off to the wings toward her daughter.

"Yes, but only a moment, nya!" Balanchine called, irritably. "We open in little more than an hour!"

As if she could forget! She was already exhausted, and had no idea how she was going to pull it through. Coffee had been her saving grace through all of this.

"Kina," Helena said, reaching toward her dancing daughter. "Come here, please."

Kuina put up a rebellious show, pretending not to hear her. She focused on her dancing, but at a nudge from Lady, she turned a grin on Helena and ran into her open arms.

"I just need an embrace from you," Helena murmured into her emerald curls, "And I remember your Father."

"I big and strong yike Papa?"

"You are strong like him," Helena agreed, ruffling her hair, "And one day you will grow big."

"I pwetty yike Papa?"

"You look very like him, yes," Helena reminded her. "Though he is handsome, not at all pretty. And you, you are handsome and pretty too."

"Pwetty yike Hammock?"

"Prettier," Helena asserted, squeezing her more tightly before letting her go.

"You go dance now?" Kuina asked. "You dance pwetty, Mama."

"Thank you, Kina. Yes, I will go dance now. Will you clap for me when I'm done?"

Kuina nodded exuberantly. Helena smiled. "That's my girl."

She made her way over to Misha, and let out a pent-up breath. "Alright," she said. "I'm ready. Let us begin."

Machovsky played the first strains of her wedding song. Helena pictured Zoro and their kata. The emotion that rushed through her became almost too much for her to contain. Moisture glistened in her eyes.

She had intentionally closed her heart working on this show, even before she'd somehow stumbled into becoming a part of it. She'd known that if she allowed a crack in the dam, too much would come spilling out. One could only contain so much sorrow and pain and love and guilt under tight pressure for so long.

The music alone made her heart sore. She saw their wedding kata, and the way Zoro had looked fighting Troy – a light in her darkest hour. She remembered him, stuck as a fox, trying to comfort her and not reveal who he was, always honorable and true to their promises. And yet, he'd found a way to help her, to try and protect her despite being angry with her, dressed as Lord Death as he cleaned her hall of false-suitors, and she dressed as Death's Lady.

She remembered sitting back to back in her gym…their gym…burnt to rubble now – how they'd not looked one another in the face as she'd recounted the horror of losing their son. Of the way he had held her then. Of introducing him to their daughter, and seeing him weep for joy. Of seeing him hold that child to him as naturally as held a sword.

She thought of seven sword style, and cutting steal, and spelunking through mushroom strewn caves. Of sharing dreams and making provisos, and trying so hard to be what the other needed.

In short, she remembered a love so real it had cost her a kingdom.

She gritted her teeth against her tears. If she fell to pieces, she wouldn't be able to dance! She focused hard on the steps to draw her back to the present, and the wave of emotion started to withdraw.

"No!" Balanchine called, "Begin again. You pulled it all back."

Helena shook her head hard. "I can't do this," she said through her teeth

"You must, nya!"

Helena snapped. "You'll have to accept my performance as is," she proclaimed in anger, "Because you will get nothing more."

She turned on her heel and started to walk off, indicating for Kuina and Lady to follow.

Balanchine's cats formed a line, blocking her way. They stood on their hindlegs, lifting their forepaws into an X shape in front of their chests then waiving both paws aside: the ballet mime for, "No."

Helena glared at them, and mimed a threatening X toward the ground with her fists closed: the ballet mime for death. When the cats didn't move, she kicked them aside like a trio of footballs. Hancock would be so proud.

"MY BABIES, NYA!" Balanchine cried.

"You're cats are fine," Helena insisted stormily. After all, they'd all landed on their feet up on the catwalk above.

"Wait, come back here!"

Helena ignored him and went to her room to rest.

* * *

"Is anyone high profile coming to watch tonight?" Helena asked Balanchine from the wings.

Dressed in a white-leotard swathed in light gauze – an artistic chiton she supposed, Helena adjusted her fake gold crown, assuring herself that the pins would hold it into place as she moved. It certainly didn't carry the weight of a real crown, yet she was as nervous as she might be going into battle.

"Finally have the nerve to show nerves, nya?" he hissed at her, still off put that she'd marched out of rehearsal without so much as an apology. "No, I don't think you'll be dealing with another visit from the Fleet Admiral."

"Fleet Admiral…?" Helena gasped, completely shaken. Akainu had been at the show last night? How had she missed that? It was a good thing she'd left when she had. He would have recognized her for sure.

"Oh yes. Sakasuki loved the show," Balanchine gushed. "He said we particularly captured the essence of the Iliad warriors; we have your suggestions to thank for that."

Helena hadn't been able to convince them to change Hector into a more serious role. Every ballet had to have a comique, it seemed. But she had won Balanchine over on the idea of making the rest of the Iliad army fierce and determined rather than bumbling. After all, it made the Navy look that much more admirable in their triumph.

"But more World Nobles?" Helena went on tensely, not really caring whether the likes of Akainu had liked her changes or not. "Will any be in the audience tonight?"

"Perhaps. Rothbart may come by to catch another show," Balanchine replied. "He's very generous, nya. When he steals one of our leads, he likes to see how our understudy does to offer the same opportunity. Usually the understudy isn't quite ready for that kind of sponsorship. Don't get too excited though, nya. With your emotionless dancing, you have no hope of that kind of offer."

"So, nothing to worry about," Helena murmured under her breath. _Except being recognized_. Would Rothbart know her face? As one who had a vested interest in her life story, it seemed possible, even likely.

She reminded herself that she now looked nothing like her wanted poster, or past publications of her face. Heavy stage makeup masked her identity further. Anyway, she had no time to worry about it. That was her cue in the music. Despite her promise to Shakky and Rayleigh that she would stay out of the public eye, Helena glided onto the stage with poise, holding her head high.

And locked eyes with the very man they'd been talking about. Saint Coppelius Rothbart.

* * *

.

.

.

A/N: I want it known that, having taken a few years of classes, I have a hefty respect for how difficult it is to master ballet. It is an exacting art form, and often movies make it seem like someone with talent can master it in a few days or weeks. (Here's looking at you, _Leap!_ \- love that movie. Super cute. But sooo not realistic. And then there's _The Greatest Showman_. Also love that movie, but I was cringing so hard when the ballet shoes he bought his daughter were pointe shoes. You do NOT go up on pointe until you've mastered dancing in canvas shoes. Especially not that young! Gracious!).

With all that being said, I think it can be argued that Helena has flexibility and tone to supersede any real world ballerina, given that this is the One Piece universe where swordsmen like her are ridiculously overpowered.

And I know it's kinda trite that she ended up playing herself, but I couldn't resist. I mean, come on! You saw it coming a mile away, but you know you would have been disappointed had it not happened!


	27. Chapter 27 - Saint Rothbart

Ch. 27 – Saint Rothbart

When he had assured himself that his principal dancer would actually enter the stage, Louis Balanchine XIII made his way out the back stage left side exit. He moseyed past dressing rooms, smiled at other dancers as they rushed to and fro preparing for their own entrances. His cats followed him, correcting this or that in the dancers' attire as they passed – a loose bow here, fluffing some tulle there, a hair out of place.

Soon he and his feline entourage made their way up a side hallway, up a few flights of stairs, and onto the balcony of the auditorium. He took a place in the empty seat beside Saint Rothbart of the Coppelius family. The seat had been reserved for him.

"Balanchine," Rothbart acknowledged in his deep, gruff voice.

"It is a pleasure to have you back again, St. Rothbart," Balanchine replied. "And Giselle. Good to see you."

This last comment was directed toward the small, albino beauty seated on Balanchine's other side. The arm candy wore a wreath of rosemary in her hair, a lilac, ankle length tutu – and a dark slave collar about her thin neck. She averted her watery lavender gaze and said nothing.

"Don't talk to the chattel," Rothbart insisted. "It upsets them."

Giselle had belonged to another dance troupe. Balanchine ran a few. Naturally, for the sake of not upsetting the other dancers, Rothbart was thoughtful enough not to bring any slaves that had previously performed at the Saobody Opera House. It made their exchanges easier.

Speaking of their exchanges: "I trust you are pleased with your recent purchase, nya?"

"Humph, she is a tender young thing," Rothbart replied, owl eyes wide as he regarded Balanchine for a moment before turning his large gaze back to the stage. "She hasn't stopped crying since she found out the true honor of where she'll be dancing. But yes, I trust I'll get no end of enjoyment out of Marie once she accepts her fate. Tell me about her understudy. She is not as graceful as Pavlova."

"That is Yelene, my assistant choreographer," Balanchine replied. "A well-traveled warrior from Amazon Lily, who had spent some time in Ilium before its fall. She and her young daughter have been living here in the Opera House during the past week, and she has been a tremendous help cleaning up the show for your enjoyment."

"She is very like the actual Sun Queen," Rothbart remarked, owl eyes unblinking as he stared at her. "Moreso than Marie Pavlova. But I am surprised you chose to replace Marie with this Yelene, and not Isadora.

"I know you had an interest in Isadora, but I'm afraid she met with a slight…accident, nya," Balanchine grinned. "She will recover, and you can look at her then. Isadora needs time to blossom, in any case. But I think you will find that Yelene is a far more…unique specimen. Watch."

Just then, Yelene went up on her toes. Shoeless. She danced a string of bourres across the stage, and the audience broke into applause.

"There, is that not impressive, nya?" Balanchine asked. "Surely she is a piece worthy of your great collection."

"Perhaps," Rothbart said pensively. "Give me time to make my decision. I've already bought a nice piece recently, and will have to see more than shoeless pointe to open my purse again so soon. Come see me at intermission."

"As you wish, your grace."

* * *

"What were you thinking?" Zoro spluttered.

Helena bowed her head. "I thought I was weighing the risks," she said.

"Not only did you go out on stage with _that_ man in the audience, _Cipher Pol_ could have been there!" he chided. "And with Diddy's power, you may not have even recognized them!"

"Before the performance, before every rehearsal, Hades, before I left the room each morning, I scanned the area with my haki."

"And if Calypso or any of the others had masked their haki?"

Helena took in a steadying breath and met his gaze. "I had to take risks, Zoro. There was no safe path to reach you. Tell me what my options were."

"Please tell me you didn't do all of this because you fell in love with the stage," he pleaded.

"Well…" Helena sighed, "Perhaps in part. It would be a lie to say I didn't enjoy it while it lasted."

* * *

Helena could feel Kuina's eyes on her from the wings, and then caught sight of her as she turned. The toddler tried to imitate her movements, prancing about like the cats had shown her to do. Lady nodded approvingly, more interested in Kuina's performance than Helena's.

Helena's heart caught at the sight.

For all Kuina's tantruming and terrible-twoing, she clearly still loved and admired her mother.

"That's it," Misha murmured as the choreography brought him beside her.

They were about to fight one another for her hand. He stood with two prop swords raised gracefully around him. A third sword in his teeth muffled his speech a bit. Zoro had learned the trick of speaking pretty clearly through his weapon; Helena had no idea how he did it. She had to strain her ears to hear Misha's muffled voice above the music:

"There is emotion in your face now, Yelene. Use that. Let _her_ be your inspiration."

 _I don't care about giving anything other than a technically good performance,_ Helena thought to him ill-naturedly.

The dance fight didn't even closely resemble their first match out at sea, or the one in the cave. After all, Helena had felt she'd given away enough details without revealing she knew exact play by plays of the Sun Queen's romance with Roronoa Zoro. In fact, she encouraged Balanchine to keep the choreography as much like the fight with the original love interest, the navy officer, as possible.

For the sake of speeding up the story, which focused on Ilium's fall, the Sun Queen and the Pirate fell madly in love in the heat of their duel. To avoid having to use the fly system here, or special sword shoes, Misha 'disarmed' her of two of her swords right away, before she could clutch any in her toes. She retaliated by knocking his sword out of his teeth, which made dancing much easier.

Two swords on two, they whirled around one another, the movements becoming more flirtatious as they went. Misha wore clothes somewhat like Zoro's now – a billowy white shirt, green bellyband. Zoro probably wouldn't be caught dead in those black tights though. The Danseur Noble had hidden all of his dark hair in a black bandana, even, and wore three earrings on his left ear. But though he looked like a smaller version of the part, Helena just couldn't picture Zoro and herself prancing like this with one another.

"You're thinking of him, I can tell," Misha murmured in her ear when they came close to one another. "Keep doing it! You're doing great."

"Stop it!" Helena snapped, pushing him away. It happened to be part of the choreography, so it worked. Misha smirked at her, triumphant that he'd coaxed a bit more acting out of her.

"You've got a lot more to give, you know," Misha prompted, "You're a great dancer, and there's a lot inside of you, so cut loose!"

"Hmph," Helena harrumphed. She slashed at him hard, and may or may not have been actually trying to hit him. Thankfully, this too was part of the choreography, and he leapt back.

"What would he tell you right now?"

"He wouldn't be trying to force me to share what I don't want to share," Helena spat. She turned a pirouette on the tips of her toes, spun several times, then came to an immediate stop, still balanced on one toe as she held her swords overhead in a fencing position.

This immediate stop was extremely hard to do, and the crowd burst into applause, as many of the long-time ballet fans apparently understood the difficulty.

"You don't think he'd be proud of you?"

"Proud?" Helena murmured.

Why would Zoro be proud? She'd allowed her country to fall apart. She'd brought hardship on their daughter. She'd turned down the gods when they'd given her the opportunity to make everything right. - And here she was dancing, receiving applause, when she deserved to be booed.

Proud? No, he would be ashamed, wouldn't he? Embarrassed even? Was this even dignified? – tears threatened to burst out of her, and she willed any sign of it out of her face.

"I'll tell you what I think," Misha said, turning several leaps in a circle around her as she fended off choreographed blows, still balanced on one toe. "I think he'd be amazed to see his warrior turning her pain into art."

Her grip loosened just enough on one of the light prop swords. He knocked it out of her hand. This was not in the choreography. Misha looked momentarily horrified.

"Keep the fight the same," Helena assured him, "I can do this with one sword."

"I got you to drop your guard," Misha smirked at her, doing as she asked. He slashed with both swords, and she swiped them aside with one. "You do have a heart after all. And it's been through a lot I can tell."

"That's really none of your business," Helena growled, "Now focus on the dance. It's about to get tricky.

It was about to get tricky because as she adjusted the "attacks", he had to adjust how he blocked. He wasn't a fighter, so she wasn't sure he could do it. He managed fine.

"You're taking the love out of this," Misha grumped.

She had intentionally made the fight more intense just to shut him up.

"You're forcing it," Helena retorted.

"Well, just remember, this is a dance, not an actual sword fight," he said, "And I know how to improvise too."

He shoved one of his swords into his teeth, and grabbed her armed hand.

"Wait, what are you…?!" Helena spluttered.

"Getting into character," he mumbled back through the hilt. "You and the Sun Queen are strong willed women. I bet your men have to be equally strong willed."

He guided her arm so she could grip his other hand, the one holding the katana. She recognized the ballet pose he was trying to create. Despite her annoyance she followed along, lifting one leg behind her in arabesque.

It probably made a pretty interesting stage picture. Helena had noticed that ballet was all about creating lines. With her sword in one hand, and his in the other, plus the horizontal katana in his mouth, it created this image that made their arms and legs seem longer than they were. She kind of wished she could see what it looked like.

Misha now had more of a grip on both swords than she. He pulled them from her grasp and tossed them aside with a clatter; now he only had the sword in his teeth. Leaving one hand clasping hers, he grasped her about the waist. He glided around her, turning her like the toy dancer on a music box in a move called a promenade.

"We're going to do some lifts you've never done before, so follow my lead," he warned.

He gripped just above the knee of her raised leg and lifted her off the ground. For a moment, he pulled her across the floor, a weightless bird. Then he allowed her lower toe to touch the ground, spun away from her, and gripped one hand.

He pulled, letting her glide for a moment like an ice skater. Soon the friction of the floor forced her to take a number of tiny steps, bourres. She eventually tripped into him, and he caught her as she fell, turning the tumble into a beautiful swan dive.

She really needed this money. She really needed this show to go well. If not she would have put a stop to this nonsense. It felt frustratingly like fighting with Calypso, only Misha was strictly professional in all this, and had not once shown an interest in her.

The swan dive, done well, meant neither dancer needed to use their arms to keep Helena balanced across his leg. The audience burst into more appreciative applause at the complicated move.

The music had just about come to an end. Misha removed the sword from his mouth with one hand, helped her out of the lift with the other, then spun her around so that he cradled her in a dip.

"Put your arms around my neck now," he told her, "And make like you're going to kiss me."

"If you try anything, you're dead," she muttered, then did as she was told.

She stopped short as she felt the prop katana touch her throat.

He'd won the duel.

The audience burst into its loudest applause yet. Honestly, Helena couldn't even be mad. He'd found a clever way to end the dance like it was supposed to end, which was with Zoro in victory. This was a much more interesting way of doing it though. In the original choreography, he was supposed to disarm her all at once and she was supposed to fall into his arms. This felt a lot less pathetic and a lot more romantic. She was sure even Mr. Balanchine, for all he didn't like improv, would approve.

She heard a little squeal from the wings, and caught a glimpse of Kuina applauding, just like she had promised to do. Well, Helena had the most important person's approval, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

As promised, Balanchine went to Rothbart's box at intermission. The bubble man frowned as soon as he laid eyes on him.

"You've got a skilled dancer there," he said, lowering his golden lorgnette from before his wide eyes. They slid easily through the bubble helm without popping it. "But though her style is interesting, I collect _dancers_ for wives, not warriors. She clearly lacks a ballerina's precision and finesse."

Balanchine tried not to let his disappointment show. "I…I see," he said.

"Further, this woman you've cast, while she fits the role well, is not beautiful enough for my collection," Rothbart insisted. "Those scars on her body are either the most impressive stage makeup I have ever seen, or they are real. She even has one on her face, which would otherwise have been her best feature."

Balanchine pursed his lips, not actually all that surprised that Rothbart could see the face scar from here. With those huge eyes, he probably didn't even need the help of the lorgnette. He was obviously scrutinizing every inch of her, the creep.

"I'll come back to catch your next program, when you've got Isadora back," Rothbart said, standing, "She is a bit flamboyant for my taste, but I'll give her a chance, just as I do for all of your leading ladies."

Balanchine knew that about Isadora. He purposely kept a few prima ballerinas on hand that weren't to Rothbart's taste, otherwise he'd run out of skilled leads. He'd been hoping for a score with selling Yelene though, since she had made it clear that she would only stay to help with the one show. That was why he had sabotaged Isadora in the first place. It had been a gamble. Apparently, the gamble hadn't paid off.

"You are not interested in seeing her finish the performance, nya?" Balanchine attempted meekly. "She and Misha-Kun have an interesting dynamic when they improvise."

He'd actually been delighted with the changes to the choreography. Misha had managed to coax more emotion from his Sun Queen by putting her off her guard. When Isadora improvised it could be off-putting, but Misha and Yelene had managed to add depth to the characters.

"I _thought_ they were improvising during that pas de deux," Rothbart said with a smirk, "It was definitely different from the last show. Still, Yelene is too guarded for this business. I shan't waste my time watching her performance; not when I've already seen it done by one worthy of the gods."

He grinned salaciously, clearly thinking of his latest acquisition.

Balanchine gave a little bow as the Celestial Dragon stood to go, dragging his albino slave upright with him. Just then Balanchine's baby pocket snail started to ring.

"What is it. nya?" he snapped in a whisper, turning away from Rothbart.

His stage manager's harried voice came through the line. "Mr. Balanchine, sir. The sword point pointe shoes don't fit."

Balanchine's eyes widened. "What?" he rasped.

"Yelene has significantly larger feet than Marie and Isadora. Her feet don't fit the sword shoes!"

Balanchine cursed under his breath. With everything going on, they hadn't had a chance to rehearse the sword stilt dance. It had been bumped to last on the schedule while the stage crew fixed the fly system. If Yelene hadn't stormed off…!

"Wait…she. What is she doing?" The stage manager's voice came through again. "She just drew one of her real swords and cut out the tips those other pointe shoes we gave her. The ones she ditched to be barefoot."

"NYA? She destroyed a pair of Siberian Swan pointe shoes?" Balanchine exclaimed in horror.

"She's sticking her swords into the ends!"

"Her real swords?" Balanchine asked, whiskers twitching in befuddlement. "Where will her feet go?"

"She says she's got this. She's already in the harness. I'm going to dim the house lights now…"

"Wait!"

 _Click._

"Well, I suppose I could stay to watch this," Rothbart said, seating himself again. He yanked Giselle down in the seat next to him, oblivious to her startled gasp of pain.

* * *

"The show must go on," Helena sighed, "That's what they say in show biz. When the shoes wouldn't fit, I figured the next best thing would be to create some shoes that looked enough like the stilts that no one would suspect anything."

"Wait, I don't get it," Usopp put in, "Why wouldn't you…oh…"

"Why wouldn't I just do it barefoot? With Rothbart in the audience? I'm not that stupid," Helena said, "The shoes were a ruse. I was holding the swords in my toes inside them. I didn't need the fly system either. If anything, it just got in my way, so I put on the harness but cut the strings. I did the best I could think of not to let Rothbart see. And yet…"

Her face fell. Zoro sighed.

"He saw through it anyway," he said. By Helena's expression he knew he was right. "Of course he did," he went on flatly. "Baka."

* * *

Rothbart's eyes narrowed at the graceful figure on the stage, particularly on her feet. From the conversation he'd just overheard on the snail, she had real swords stuffed up in those shoes.

"Where did you say this woman is from?" he asked softly.

"She's one of the Kuja from Amazon Lily. She left to find a better life for herself and her daughter," Balanchine responded. He seemed unsure if he should seat himself again or not, and so just stood there wringing his hands and watching Rothbart's every reaction.

"But she was your advisor on Iliad custom?"

"Well, she claimed to have spent time there. Being one of the Kuja, she traveled a good deal with Boa Hancock, nya."

Rothbart turned his huge, owlish eyes toward the choreographer, narrowing them to near slits. "The Kuja never had a good repour with Ilium," he pointed out, "None of the schichibukai did. Ilium has always hated pirates, even, or perhaps especially, those sanctioned by the Government."

"You follow the politics of us peasants this closely, nya?" Balanchine asked in surprise.

"Those particular peasants, yes," he said. "I had a vested interest in Ilium once. And in that woman in particular." He gestured toward Yelene as she turned a series of fouettes flawlessly on the tips of her swords; so many spins would have caused the fly system to tangle. Even the audience could tell by now she had nothing holding her up

"In Yelene?" Balanchine asked, all befuddlement.

"No, Yelene does not exist," Rothbart pointed out, turning his enormous gaze on the twirling queen. He gestured at her with his opera glasses, " _That_ is Helena du Cygnus et Leda, Daughter of Ilium."

"I…don't follow," Balanchine said meekly.

"That's the REAL Sun Queen, you dolt!" Rothbart snapped. "Who else could dance like that on sword point? Who else would be so guarded? She is dancing the story of her own life!"

"So…does that mean you'd like to purchase her?" Balanchine attempted, wringing his hands more quickly now.

"No," Rothbart growled. "No, I will not pay a single berri for that woman. As far as I'm concerned, she already belongs to me."

"Now see here!" Balanchine yowled. "You may be world noble, nya, but even your laws dictate that slaves must be purchased honorably and in accordance with…"

Without warning, Rothbart drew a pistol and rested it right between Balanchine's eyes. "Do not think for a moment that you can command me, scum. I could have you for a slave this instant, you mangy cat, and no one would bat an eye. Those laws exist among us to keep us from stealing one another's slaves, not to protect the interests of you plebes. So do as I say and bring her to me this instant or…"

The Sun Queen had just finished her stunning display to a standing ovation. They were demanding an encore and 'Yelene' didn't seem to know what to do. She and Mochavsky made eye contact, and she nodded to him to start the music again. At the precise moment the maestro lifted his baton, a green-haired streak of energy zipped across the stage to her mother's side.

She threw her arms about her mother, positively beaming in delight. Rothbart's jaw dropped:

"You said she had a daughter, yes?"

"Yes, t-t-that's her, nya," Balanchine stammered, gazing cross-eyed at the pistol still threatening to blow his brains out.

"And she's married to Roronoa Zoro," Rothbart went on.

"Yes, that detail of the show is accurate."

"I know you pea brain. I made sure they told me who her actual groom was," Balanchine spat, then turned his enormous gaze back toward the stage. "A daughter with Roronoa Zoro's signature green hair." The noble inspected the toddler through his binoculars in fascination. "Now, you're sure that child is related by blood to your so-called Yelene?"

"The ch-ch-child has her mother's eyes, nya," Balanchine confirmed.

"Bring her to me," Rothbart growled, lowering his gun. His tone became more business-like "If she is the real deal, I will pay you six-hundred million berries for her."

"S-s-six hundred million berries, nya nya!" Balanchine couldn't believe his ears, but his voice still shook from the recent encounter with Rothbart's pistol. "That's more than you've paid for any of the other dancers combined!"

"Then I suggest you hurry, and stop asking questions," Rothbart snapped.

"Yes sir, right away sir! Nya-nya!"

* * *

Clutching her still tutu'd fox plush, Kuina sat on a full but unused sand bag where her mother had placed her backstage.

"I'm so glad you're enjoying the show, Kuina-bee, but you can't run out there like that while I'm dancing," her Mama scolded in a low tone. "And where were you, hmm?"

She'd directed this last bit at Lady Snake, whose stomach grumbled loudly on cue.

"You were chasing mice again, weren't you," Mama sighed. "Lady, we've been through this. When you're watching Kuina, you can't run off. You've got to eat before you start your duties."

A jolt in the music made Mama realize she had to go dance again. "I have to go on now. Keep out of trouble you two."

"Bweak yeg, Momma!" Kuina called, watching her prance out onto the stage.

The other dancers had taught her to say that. She smiled when her mother did, then took to swinging her feet back and forth where she sat. Her legs ached a bit from all the dancing and running around she'd been doing backstage, so she didn't mind the momentary rest. She'd be up and dancing around again in a minute, to be sure.

In pure delight she watched her mother dance her way through a staged battle. She didn't understand what it was supposed to be portraying – it was all so clean and neat and artistic that it hardly brought to mind the battle that the child had actually witnessed. All she knew was that her mother was so beautiful and graceful, and in that moment Kuina wanted to be just like her.

A loud meow distracted her from her reverie. She looked down at her feet to see Balanchine's lavender-grey cat, Twila looking up at her unblinkingly.

"Kitty!" she cried, reaching down to pet it clumsily.

The cat took a mouthful of the child's skirt and tugged, pulling her upright off of the sandbag and dragging her toward the exit backstage.

Lady let out a hiss in warning, winding suddenly about her charge and pushing the cat back. Obliged to release Kuina's skirt, Twila let out a hiss in return, and she and the snake engaged in a sudden staring contest. Unblinking reptilian eyes met feline, both creatures showing their fangs.

Fred the Calico suddenly pounced on Lady's head from the side, knocking her out of the way. and Twila resumed her tugging.

"No," Kuina cried, grabbing at her skirt and trying to yank it away. She dropped Foxy in the process. "Want to watch Mama! Stop it!"

None of the grown-ups around her seemed to notice her plight. They hurried on, only concerned about making their cues or their costume changes. If they saw anything, they merely thought young "Kina" to be playing with her animal friends again.

Ginger rounded out the feline trio. She appeared out of nowhere, an orange ninja, who pounced upon Lady and helped hold her down. But the snake wasn't the daughter of Salome for nothing. She whipped herself from side to side, throwing the two cats holding her into the wall. She lunged for Twila, jaws unhinged, and in an instant that drew a shriek from the child, Lady swallowed the lavander cat whole.

This finally drew the attention of some of the cast.

"Lady just swallowed one of Mr. Balanchine's cats!" someone cried.

Soon, some of the braver dancers had tackled Lady to the ground. She thrashed, trying to bite at her captors, but lacking her royal mother's size she didn't have a chance against so many humans.

Helplessly, Kuina reached toward her serpentine protector, who could only watch as Fred and Ginger snagged the child and dragged her away.

* * *

In the hallway outside his personal box, Saint Rothbart met the Sun Queen's daughter for the first time. Owlish eyes open wide, he took in her fiery brown eyes, unbending confidence, and long, pinchy toes in a glance. His oddly tiny mouth dropped open wide in his bearded face:

Yes, there was no question. This was a Daughter of Prometheus.

"I will purchase her, here and now," he informed Balanchine. "For the price stated."

Balanchine didn't argue. He didn't question why Rothbart would demand Helena du Cygnus for free, and yet offer so much for a two-year-old girl. – The plebe didn't need to understand those details. After all, there wasn't a single Celestial Dragon who could deny Rothbart's claim on Helena, what with the battle fought for her all those years ago. But if any of them found out about this child, it would help to have a receipt showing he had seen and purchased her first, fair and square.

"Would you like the mother too?" Balanchine asked. "Shall we wait for the end of the performance, or…?"

"No, I no longer care what happens to her," Rothbart cut him off. "A marriage to her would require an annulment of her current marriage, which would be easy enough by World Law, but I'd have to make her gods accept it too. Unfortunately, that little oath of hers would require me to duel for her hand, which is beneath me."

"Of course, nya."

The fool had no idea what he was talking about. Or maybe he was too awestruck by the enormous case of cash he now held in his trembling paws. Greed shone clearly on his face; he was only half listening. The nerve! It was a pity his choreography was so good. Rothbart sometimes wanted to put a bullet between the idiot's brows for all the cheek he dared to show during the course of negotiations. But really, he trained up the best dancers for his collection.

"However, a marriage to this little one…" Rothbart continued, patting Kuina's curls. She balked, eyes narrowed at him:

"You yike blue heart head, bubble man," she said. "I no yike you."

Rothbart struck her across the cheek.

Balanchine's eyes grew wide: "M-m-marriage?" he gasped, ignoring the obvious abuse happening before him. "To one so young?"

"What does her age matter?" Rothbart sniffed. "Silence, child. You will not weep in my presence, you understand?"

The toddler wailed harder. He raised his hand again, but Giselle suddenly threw herself in the way. Protecting the child with her body, her brand stood clearly visible on her mostly bare back. She scooped the girl up and cradled her against her chest.

"Giselle, how dare…!" Rothbart snarled at his concubine.

She was currently his favorite. Docile, servile, beautiful and rare – he usually chose her as arm candy to events such as these. But he had plenty of other options if he needed to end her.

"Apologies, master," she said, pointing a toe behind her and bowing her head low with a dancer's grace. "I only meant to help spare your ears by easing her tantrum. Truly she will realize how blessed she is to have been deigned worthy of servitude to one such as yourself. Have mercy on her as she learns. She is, after all, just a babe."

"If she makes another peep I will have her gagged," Rothbart sniffed, then turned from the sniffling nuisance back to Balanchine. "Anyway, I should leave now before her mother causes trouble."

He was no fool. He knew that, though a mere ant before him in status, the Sun Queen was a warrior of considerable skill. After losing everything important to her, she likely didn't fear the retaliation of the government. He needed to abscond with his prize before she was any the wiser.

He grinned evilly to himself, his tiny mouth a perfect little "V" in middle of his greying beard. It wouldn't be long before he became the most powerful man in the world. He could take out his revenge on her easily then. Destroying her with her own god powers had a poetic ring to it. Much more satisfying than trying to do so via the Navy, as he'd attempted unsuccessfully in the past.

"Collar her," he said of the child. An armored soldier from his entourage complied, all while Giselle desperately shushed the child to keep her from crying out about how heavy and uncomfortable it was.

And all the while, Kuina's mother danced on, oblivious to her daughter's plight.


	28. Chapter 28 - Unforgiveable

A/N: Warning, angst ahead. Most of yall seem to like the angsty stuff, so I guess the warning is unnecessary. My husband wasn't a fan. Said it wasn't very One Piece (uh, to be fair, there's slave trading and implied cannibalism in ONe Piece. I mean, it's not exactly rainbows and unicorns).

On a lighter note, I've written to chapter 32 and am still going strong. I am really close to catching the flashbacks up with the main storyline! Woot! Straw Hat hijinks will then ensue!

Also: I believe I described Lady as being a red or crimson snake in the past. I'm changing her to being an ivory colored snake, because I want her to look a little less threatening. She isn't venomous, and I figured her being this pretty, light color would make her feel more ,well, lady like. (Plus, she's a descendant of Salome, so my color choices were red, white, and red/white. I didn't want her to be pink or speckled (I really think the speckles take away from Salome's design, personally. Would love it if she looked a little more threatening). If Lady were a person I picture her as wearing a pastel summer dress and holding a parasol.

* * *

Ch. 28 – Unforgivable

The final scene of the show took its emotional toll. Though they'd switched out the Navy Lover for Zoro, they hadn't really changed the ending all that much. Not for the Sun Queen.

It was time for her to playact taking her own life in penance for the loss of her country. After all the feelings she had successfully repressed throughout the course of the show, this moment worried her the most. It worried her so much in fact that she didn't notice that Kuina had disappeared from back stage. Helena had slipped into a meditative state, emptying her thoughts and attachments so she could perform.

A soft version of _Helena the Heretic_ filled the air, the playful tune turned somber by the now minor key. She took a deep breath, knowing her entrance was nigh.

"I can do this," she murmured to herself.

Misha stood beside her. He must have heard her, for he shot her a look, opened his mouth as though about to offer encouragement, but then he checked himself. The solemnity that had settled around the Prima Ballerina must have affected the Danseur Noble, and for a moment he looked hopeful that she would channel this feeling into her dancing. He let the solemnity settle into his own face: he was about to leap out to find his lover dead, after all. He needed to be in the proper mode.

Helena took the first faltering steps onto the stage. Special effects filled the scene with fire; the fire of Iliad houses burning to the ground. The set designer had done his research to be sure. For a moment, Helena was there, standing in the sweltering, cobbled streets of her homeland. She took a deep breath, but the scent of invisible ash filled her nostrils. She heard screams that weren't real; cries for help she could not answer, echoes of desperation now dead on forever stilled lips.

Her people, gone forever into the land of Hades. Had Bags fulfilled his promise to perform the proper funeral rituals for them? Or did they wander now as shades, shades like the shadows of dancers around her, people she couldn't see clearly through glazed vision as they played the part of fleeing villagers covered in ash.

Soon she stood alone on stage. All the movement around her had slowed, as the dancers who had not fled made the mime for death, and lay still on the stage about her.

She lifted her arms toward them, as choreographed, as if trying to raise them up again. She gritted her teeth against the tears threatening to spill.

 _This isn't real_ , she reminded herself. _This isn't them._

But it didn't matter. The dancers may not have actually been her subjects, but they represented something very real indeed.

"Oh gods, forgive me!" she screamed in sudden agony.

She plunged her dagger into her abdomen, curled about it, and fell.

* * *

"Well done, Yelene," Misha murmured. He and the cast stood entranced from the wings. Tears spilled freely from their eyes. "I knew you had it in you."

He entered, his face and posture the very picture of distress. She feebly raised her head to look at him, and he went to cradle her in his arms.

"Zoro…" she murmured, eyes straining to keep tears at bay. "I'm so sorry, Zoro. I never meant to hurt you on top of everyone else."

Getting into character! Good. – He didn't bother reminding her that it was a ballet so they should portray any feeling through gesture and not words. If this was what it took to get her to feel, then he wasn't about to put a stop to it.

This close to her he saw a depth of pain in her face that alarmed him. For a moment he wondered if she had actually stabbed herself. After all, she had insisted on replacing the prop dagger with one she said she'd bought in Ilium. It was actual sea stone apparently.

Thankfully he could see that the dagger rested by her side, not actually through her. She closed her eyes and pretended to perish, willing her trembling shoulders to be still.

"Akainu" then entered the scene. He wasn't actually a dancer. Just a large-built actor who resembled the actual Sakazuki admirably. He appeared to laugh at "Zoro"'s plight. The danseur leapt to his feet. Spinning once, he artistically drew all three katana and pointed them at his foe.

Yelene had insisted on this choreography. Balanchine had suggested they have the pirate try to run like a coward in the end, to juxtapose the righteous might of the Government over the moral weakness of pirates. The very thought seemed to wound Yelene to the core:

"Roronoa Zoro is a swordsman," she had explained, gesturing to her own swords. "Scars on the back are a swordsman's shame! He would never retreat! Anyway, it's far more romantic to have him fight for his love than to die abandoning her."

Misha had backed her up whole heartedly on that one. Besides, it meant they didn't have to change too much of the choreography from the Navy Officer role.

As Misha made to charge, The Admiral pointed at him, then made the mime for death. Before Misha could reach his person, "Akainu" appeared to blast him through the chest with a wave of magma. He fell beside Yelene, and placed an arm around her.

The audience burst into applause and the curtain fell.

Misha jumped upright. "Come on! We have to clear the stage for curtain call!"

Yelene didn't sit up right away. Curled around herself, she clutched at her face, her entire body shaking with emotion.

"Are you…are you ok?" Misha ventured, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Yelene let out a little moan. "They're…they're all gone. How could I survive when so many didn't?"

"The show is over, Yelene," Misha assured her. He could see the stage manager waving at them frantically.

Yelene sat upright quickly, face clear of tears but eyes full of pain.

"It's not over," she murmured, "Because we have two more weeks of shows." She looked at Misha, chest heaving as she forced herself to speak. "I-I don't think I can do that again."

He helped her to her feet and pulled her off the stage just in time for the curtain to rise again. As the principal dancers, they would be last to come out for their bow.

"You were phenomenal," Misha gushed, not sure what else to say to the clearly overwrought woman. "You'll get better with every show the more you let yourself be vulnerable like that."

"Not true," Yelena countered,chest still heaving as she took deep, steadying breathes. "You must have seen how I started stumbling about in the end. I can't emote and dance at the same time. And certainly not that last scene…"

"You'll get the hang of it," Misha reassured her, but he had to wonder what kind of battle she had lived through to leave her with such heavy survivor's guilt.

She forced a smile. Something about it said she really didn't _want_ to get the hang of it, didn't want to put herself on the line like that again.

"I just hope that wasn't too hard for Ku…Kina to watch. It may have reminded her of…things from our past," she murmured, looking around for her daughter. "And seeing her mother die like that…wait a minute, where is she?"

Misha cast a glance back over his shoulder but couldn't see her. He did catch a glimpse of the snake nursemaid, Lady. A bunch of stage hands had her pinned down. When they saw Yelene looking their way, one started shouting at her:

"Your stupid snake tried to eat one of Balanchine's cats!"

He held the soaked, bedraggled and clearly shaken Twila in his arms. The cat mewled pitifully, and Lady let out a hiss.

"But where is my daughter…?" Helena started again. Lady turned to her and made a fresh bid for freedom. It took five stage hands to hold her down.

"We'll look for her in a second," Misha insisted, grabbing her arm and tugging her toward the stage, "That's our cue."

He had to drag her a bit to get her to stop looking into the wings over her shoulder as she entered for her final bow. The crowd gave her a standing ovation and rained roses at her feet, but she didn't seem to care. After giving a graceful _reverence_ , or curtsey, to the Maestro, she then turned to do it toward the audience.

She stopped dead, her eyes staring straight ahead at the Nobles' Box.

It was empty.

* * *

No Rotherbart. No Kuina.

Panic paralyzed Helena for a moment, stopping her reverence mid curtsey. Stopping her very heart for all she could tell.

And then the panic gave way to rage:

"Where's my daughter?" she demanded.

"Yelene, wait til the curtain falls," Misha tried to insist.

"Where. Is. My. DAUGHTER?" she bellowed, drawing the Amazonian swords hidden as decorative belts about her waist. The applause from the crowd gave way to a confused silence, followed by awkward murmurs.

Lady slipped free of her captors at last, and rushed toward Helena. The ivory snake snatched the shaken Twila from the stage hand, and nabbed the plush green fox by its pink tutu along the way. Frantically, she held toy and cat toward the principal dancer.

And suddenly the dots started to connect.

"Balanchine," Helena growled.

Lady released the cat and nodded.

"I don't care how hungry you were, you would never try to eat an animal that Kuina had befriended," she said, throwing aside the use of Kuina's false name in her rage. "Those stupid cats helped him take her, didn't they?"

Lady nodded even more vigorously.

"BALANCHINE!" Helena bellowed. "WHAT IN HADES DID YOU DO?"

"Yelene, please!" Misha attempted, grasping her by the arm and trying to drag her off of the stage. Strong though he was, she wrenched her arm easily from his grasp. "I'm sure Kina is fine…!"

Helena caught sight of Balanchine up in the back corner of the otherwise empty nobles' box. He sat counting out berry bills from a suitcase balanced in his lap. So intent on his prize was he, that he didn't even notice the drama unfolding on stage.

"He sold her…" she murmured, the bottom of her stomach dropping out to make room for more burning rage inside her chest.

"What?" Misha spluttered.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Helena bellowed. " _WRATH OF ZEUS!"_

A smattering of applause rippled through the theater. Apparently they thought they were still getting a show when the woman playing the Sun Queen shot through the air like a streak of lightning, two swords and a dagger drawn. She crashed into the chairs of the box, smashing them aside until she stood over the now trembling cat man.

"Yelene, what do you think you are doing, nya?" he dared to ask in a tremulous voice.

"That is not my name, and you know it," she growled. "I don't know how you figured it out, but you are going to pay for what you've done. Where has he taken my daughter?"

"Who?" he squeaked.

"ANSWER ME!" Helena slashed the chair next to him, slicing it in two with threatening fervor.

"I don't know what you are talking about!"

Helena let out a primal yell, slicing the suitcase of money right out of his hands. He let out a yowl of dismay, reaching into the sudden snowfall of tattered bills as they fluttered down around him.

"TELL ME WHERE ROTHBART IS TAKING HER!" she bellowed, her sword now pointed to his throat.

"I don't know, nya!" he cried, trembling. "To Marie Jois, I imagine! But he said something about a m-m-m-marriage."

Helena could feel the haki bomb explode out of her, killing all the lights, knocking everyone in the theater out cold. It shook the building itself to its foundation. Balanchine flew back into the wall behind him, hitting it with an audible crack.

She walked up to his body and nudged it with her toe, lip trembling. Through the fading twilight coming through an enormous, stained glass window in the ceiling, she could make out blood trickling from his dark hair. He had a concussion at the very least. She hoped it had killed him.

Rage trembling through her, she raced out of the building and after her daughter. A nightlong, fruitless search had just begun.

* * *

Aboard the _Thousand Sunny_ , Helena had to stop her tale. Trembling with rage, she could no longer speak. When at last she found her voice, her tone cracked as she fought to keep everything down:

"It is the worst fear of a parent; looking away for a moment only to find your child gone. It's like the feeling of missing a step on the way down the stairs, only a thousand times worse. Excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

She stood and walked out.

"Zoro, aren't you supposed to be carrying her everywhere?" Nami reminded the swordsman.

"She needs a minute alone," he said in a low voice. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"But…"

"I said, she'll be _fine,_ " he repeated darkly.

Zoro didn't think he could look her in the face right now. He wanted to be understanding. Wanted to be forgiving. Wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault. But it was. She had lost their daughter while dancing. _Dancing!_ And in front of a World Noble, no less. Not just any World Noble, either. Saint Rothbart! The very man who had wanted to marry Helena as a babe!

It was so irresponsible, so outside the realm of what Zoro believed Helena capable of doing that he had a hard time believing it. His face showed no emotion, but he felt all the same vivid anger toward her now as he had when he'd first discovered Kuina's brand.

The crew sat in silence, listening to the rain as they waited for Helena to return. When the minutes dragged on into a quarter of an hour, Sanji finally spoke:

"I think someone should check on her," he said, and they all looked at Zoro.

The swordsman sighed and stood.

Before long he found her. She had apparently collapsed onto the ground out in the hallway on her way back from the restroom. Guilt shot through him as he knelt over her and placed a hand on her shoulder:

"You ok?" he asked, as her eyes blinked open.

"What…what happened?"

"I think you fainted."

"Oh," Helena sat up, then leaned back against the wall. "I guess there's a reason Chopper said he wanted you carrying me everywhere. I thought I'd be fine."

"Has he told you what's wrong?"

"No, we haven't had a moment to talk yet, but I think…well, I haven't been able to keep much down, so…."

Zoro took a seat beside her. "You're telling me you just threw up?"

Helena nodded, glancing askance. "Don't tell Sanji. The food tasted fine, it's just…everything hurts my stomach these days. I don't feel hungry, but I know my body needs the food, so I force myself to eat, but it seems like it makes everything worse."

"How long have you been feeling this way?"

"I don't really know. I feel like it started after Ilium fell," Helena said, "Maybe before, but I just…I just kind of assume it's all the stress, you know?"

Zoro's brow furrowed. This explanation didn't make much sense to him. "You have been through a lot," he conceded.

Helena bowed her head.

"I don't know if I want to tell my story anymore," she murmured. "But it's Kuina's story too, you see. I feel like you at least need to know."

"You don't have to tell it in front of everyone," Zoro pointed out. "Or even keep telling it right now. We can pick this up tomorrow if you want."

"No, I don't think putting it off is a good idea," Helena said, her chest suddenly heaving. "Just, give me a minute."

"You gonna puke again?"

Helena shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

"Want me to get Chopper?"

Helena shook her head again, and let out a rough sob. She was crying.

Zoro placed his arm around her and she curled into him immediately with a desperation that said she was hoping he'd hold her but hadn't dared to ask. She could obviously tell he was still angry with her, despite his concern, and this gesture helped him show her that, angry or not, they would get through this.

As he listened to her tormented sobs, he realized how much she had had to hold inside for so long. He was her safe harbor now. And though he knew his anger was justified, he started to wonder if it had been necessary:

"Listen, Helena, I…"

"Don't say it," she choked out, cutting him off.

"Don't say what?" he asked, amused despite the gravity of the situation.

"Don't say that you're sorry."

"How did you know that I…?"

"Zoro," Helena curled into him tighter, as though in physical pain. There were still tears in her voice. "I do not deserve forgiveness, do you understand? My negligence didn't just hurt Kuina, either. Think of all the children just like her who are dead or displaced now because of me. I don't want your pity. I want your anger. I want all of their anger. I want to feel every ounce of it!"

Zoro shook his head. His anger had melted away completely now, her inner turmoil all the punishment she could possibly deserve.

"It's not all your burden to bear. I left, remember? Even hearing what Athena said to you through the Lotus. If I had stayed, none of this would have happened."

"I made you leave," Helena countered.

Zoro chuckled wryly. "Nah, you can't _make_ me do anything, Beloved. Besides that, you're being awfully greedy here."

"Am I?" Helena retorted.

"You are always taking all of the credit for everything. Maybe you could learn to share for a change," he went on dryly. "After all, I had a hand in Ilium's fall, and so did your citizens. You get that, right? They supported your decisions. They were just as angry with the government as you after Troy, and after Regent! I am sure they did not go out blaming you."

"This wouldn't have happened under my father's watch," Helena insisted into his chest.

"Your father supported you too," Zoro pointed out, pulling away so he could look her in the face. "In the end, they agreed with your decisions. Anyone who blames you is a coward unwilling to accept their own culpability."

"Zoro, _I_ am the one who angered the gods and lost Ilium its protection. That is something that neither my people nor my father ever supported."

"But it is something I support," Zoro growled, but then he sighed. "Helena, when will you learn that you can't keep shouldering all this alone?"

Helena looked up at him, the tears still staining her face. "Zoro, I believe that there are some sins…" she took in a shaky breath. "Some sins should not be forgiven…"

* * *

With the Opera House still out of power after Helena's Haki bomb, she found her former coworkers stood outside underneath a flickering street lamp, deep in conversation. When they saw her approach, a presence of palpable anger in the shadows, all of the dancers took a step back.

"Yelene!" Machovsky cried in melodious voice. "What on earth was all that? You nearly killed Balanchine! He's in the hospital now!"

"So, he's not dead," she replied in a flat voice. "Pity."

"What…?"

Lady slithered after her in the darkness. Her animal senses and deep love of Kuina hadn't been enough to aid Helena in her search with more than companionship. The serpent held as much anger in her lithe posture as Helena did. She hissed at the dancers from the darkness.

"You all did nothing," Helena murmured softly. "You let him take her."

"Let him take who?" Misha asked, voice trembling. "Yelene…"

"I AM NOT YELENE," Helena barked, her voice strong and military. "I am the real Helena de Zoro of the Line of Prometheus. I am a daughter of Ilium, and the deposed Queen of her charred walls."

The cast took to murmuring to one another. Helena didn't care if they believed her or thought her delusional and caught up in her role:

"My daughter, Kuina du Helena et Zoro, has been sold to the Celestial Dragons for her connection to the gods," she stated bitterly, "And you all stood by and did NOTHING as she was kidnapped. A child. A babe! You're not human."

"We didn't know," one of the other dancers gasped.

"No one saw it happen," a stage hand insisted.

"Yel…Helena…Your Majesty, please…" Misha attempted.

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT," she barked again, and Misha cowered. Further proof that he was not worthy to play the role he'd been given, the spineless milquetoast. "I am no longer a Queen."

She drew her sea stone dagger, and pulled out the flask that Mihawk had given her. She held it aloft toward the enormous opera house, darkened already by her anger.

"Mother, give me strength," she murmured, a drunken rage already burning in her eyes, even before she took a swig.

She stumbled, then looked at Misha and Machovsky, who stood rooted to the spot with horror while the others fled.

"You wanted to see me bear my soul?" she growled. "Let's see what you think of it now."

* * *

"I don't remember much. Destruction. Flames. Embers. It was like destroying the Temple of Hera all over again, I imagine, but my rage made my memory hazy," she explained in deadpan. "There were…there were people screaming though."

Rage and alcohol, Zoro amended in his mind, knowing she would never admit to having been drunk.

"Did you hurt anyone?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Helena replied staring at nothing. "Probably? I hope not. I realize now that they were not to blame, those performers. They were actually just as much victims it turns out. Balanchine would have sold any of them at the drop of a hat. He saw them as expendable."

She took in a heavy breath and looked up at him:

"I had always believed myself to be in control of my emotions. But apparently my rage can be more powerful than I have trained myself to contain, particularly with regard to my children."

"I can't say I fully understand the mother's instinct; however, I have noticed that you have spent your life suppressing, rather than channeling your emotions," Zoro told her frankly. "We can work on it together if you like."

"I fear I'm out of time," Helena replied softly.

Out of time?

"What?" Zoro shot her a confused look, and she backpedaled:

"I mean, I...it's too late, isn't it?" she fumbled, "I destroyed the Temple of Hera and doomed my country. I destroyed Saobody Opera House and possibly hurt innocents in the process."

"You can't change what's past," Zoro reminded her bluntly.

"Indeed," she agreed in a soft but gravid tone. "All I can do is try to atone for my mistakes."

Zoro didn't respond to this. On the surface, this seemed like an acceptable answer, but something about the way she said it worried him.

"Anyway, we should get back to the others," Helena insisted, nervous in his silence. "I…the next leg of the journey isn't pretty, but I'm almost done with my tale."

She made to stand, leaning heavily on the wall to pull herself upright. Zoro soon came to her aid, and though she tried to walk at first, he soon swept her up into his arms.

"Doctor's orders," he grunted.


	29. Chapter 29 - Do Gods Bleed?

Ch. 29 - Do Gods Bleed?

Back at Saobody Archipelago, Helena awoke from her drunken rampage with a splitting headache and a weight about her neck. Shakily she raised a hand to her throat and felt a heavy collar there.

"No…" she gasped.

A familiar voice beside her helped calm her panic, but only incrementally:

"Don't be alarmed. This is going according to plan."

Rayleigh?

"What plan?" Helena asked, squinting at him through the darkness of…wherever they were. "Is this thing real?" she asked, pointing to the collar.

"Yes, unfortunately," Rayleigh admitted. She could see him beside her now. He too wore chains and a collar. "We didn't have time or means to get you one that had been dismantled. You'll have to figure out how to safely remove it later. Listen, we know what happened. I pulled you from the wreckage of Saobody Opera House before the authorities could get you."

"That was lucky…" Helena mumbled.

"Not luck," Rayleigh explained. "Shakky and I have been trying to remember what was off about that place. We mentioned it in front of Duval, and he said it's a front for some kind of specialized slave trading. I came to warn you but found it was too late."

"Wait, Kuina isn't the only one Balanchine has sold?"

"No. Listen, the only way you're going to get to young Kuina is to be sold as a slave yourself. We brought Duval in on it…"

"Remind me who that is and why he would help me?" Helena asked. She vaguely remembered him. The man who had helped to guard the Sunny for the Straw Hats.

"He was formerly a slaver. He's been out of the business for a while, but he said he was happy to help out a friend of the Straw Hats. Anyway, he's going to make a killing selling you."

Helena snorted. "I imagine. Where are we?"

"An elite auction house. Only the wealthiest of the wealthy come here, mostly World Nobles. You're up next."

"And you're coming too?" Helena asked. "Remind me why _you_ would want to go to these lengths to help me?"

"Luffy's my nephew," Rayleigh said with a shrug, "You're his nakama."

"More like his nakama's nakama," Helena pointed out.

"Semantics," Rayleigh grinned. "Anyway, I was getting bored. I've let myself get sold a few times, but never to a World Noble; could be interesting to see if I can escape Marie Jois itself."

"You're crazy. You know that, right?" Helena shifted in her chains. Her eyes widened. "I still have my belt swords," she observed. "And my crown." Said item currently sat on her brow.

"Naturally. We want you to be recognized, don't we?" Rayleigh chuckled. "And the belts? Well, I was hoping you could get those in unnoticed. Shakky has your other swords."

"But my crown. I shouldn't be wearing it. It's not right. I'm no longer a…"

She didn't have time to finish her thought. Someone had just gotten a hold of her chains and given them a yank. She stumbled onto a stage, blinking in the sudden influx of light. Despite the light dance costume she still wore – a gauzy imitation of the traditional clothing of her country – she felt suddenly suffocated by the heat of the building. So many wealthy, perfumed bodies packed together to bid on human flesh. Helena thought she might vomit.

"The Flying Fish Riders have come back into business with the find of the century! Helena the Sun Queen of Ilium!"

The sleezy announcer grinned as a murmur shot through the audience of sweaty nobles. Duval, who stood off to the side of the stage, shot her a painful wink, and she cringed. Ah, yes. Now she remembered him. His winks were far from subtle, even at the best of times. If anyone had seen that, it would have given away their plot instantly.

"Let's start the bidding at her bounty at the very least. One hundred million berries!"

Helena didn't know how to feel as no one raised their pallets. None of the nobles actually wanted her. It was kind of insulting in a way.

"Come now! We can do better than this!" the announcer bellowed. "She may not be useful as eye candy, but think of the novelty of a lesser royal in your household! She is a famed swordswoman! Put her to use as a body guard! Look at that strong body! How about a maid? No less than a Queen to scrub your halls!"

This did nothing to up the ante.

Helena skimmed the crowd, searching for Rothbart. She didn't see him. Her eyes locked onto those of someone much worse:

Akainu.

"That woman is not for sale."

His voice boomed through the sweaty auction house. Helena tried not to cringe, to show any fear or emotion or rage. Flames danced in the corners of her vision, threatening to overwhelm her with memories of Ilium ablaze.

And yet, somehow the queen looked him in the eye with a steady gaze as he made his way toward the stage. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The auctioneer looked like he might faint.

"Ah, Fleet Admiral Sir, I understand that this woman is a wanted criminal, but according to article ten section twelve…"

Fleet Admiral Sakazuki merely turned a look on the man, and he melted into a quivering silence. The murmurs died down as he turned his gaze to the merchandise:

"Hello, Helena _de Zoro_ ," he seemed to still get a kick out of her married name, for whatever reason. Helena hardly blinked. "You will be coming with me."

The auctioneer looked like he wanted to say something, but was too afraid to speak. Akainu sensed the unasked question and answered it calmly:

"She is not for sale because she already belongs to someone. A World Noble. If he reneges his claim on her, I will return her here for auction."

The auctioneer nodded in understanding, and shot a shrug to Duval, who gave Helena an apologetic look. The man had no subtlety, did he? Did he want it to look like he was trying to help her?

She chanced a glance at Rayleigh only to see that the old pirate had disappeared. Well, perhaps his sense of adventure had waned in the face of the Fleet Admiral himself. Helena couldn't exactly blame him.

Akainu made to take Helena by her chains, but she took a step forward of her own accord:

"I will not be dragged like a common slave, thank you," she informed him point blank.

"Ah, but that is what you are, De Zoro," he goaded; however, he didn't take up the chains. After all, it wasn't like she could make a break for it or anything. He gestured for her to go first, and she stepped off of the stage with her head held high.

Helena was somewhat surprised. She didn't expect Akainu to treat her with decency. Not after the way he'd treated her and her family in the past.

It wasn't long before he had her comfortably riding a bubble rickshaw, en route to Marie Jois. Well, that's where she'd wanted to be all along, wasn't it?

"You aren't going to kill me?" she commented to him, and he grinned.

"Would you like me to?" he rumbled.

Helena decided not to deign this with a response.

"I admit, it is tempting. I could have incinerated you right there on that stage, but this fate seems far more just," Akainu admitted. "You should have belonged to Rothbart ages ago. All the trouble you've caused never would have come about if you're parents had accepted their, and your, proper place in the world. – anyway, you'll get to be with your daughter. Aren't I so generous?"

Helena smirked despite herself:

"Fleet Admiral, "generous" is not really the first word that comes to mind when I think of you."

"Ah, and what is the first word?"

"One not suitable to sully the lips of a Queen I'm afraid, even a deposed one."

Akainu laughed.

"Truly you've caused us no end of trouble, Sun Queen," Akainu went on. "After all the effort we made to keep your daughter's existence off of the radar of the World Nobles, you go flaunting her right in front of one."

"You were trying to keep her a secret from the World Nobles?" Helena inquired. That explained a lot. After all, they hadn't made any mention of her in the papers, except the misprint in the article about Hancock choosing an heir. Kuina had a distinct look, yet she hadn't been given a wanted poster. She would have been an easy target for bounty hunters if they'd put a bolo out on her.

"After all the trouble one god-power connected child had caused, it didn't seem prudent to give them something else to cause a ruckus over," Akainu admitted.

"But you killed the sibyl, so what does it matter?" Helena asked.

"Rothbard doesn't know that," Akainu explained, but there was something in the way he forced himself to meet her gaze. Something in the way he smiled, daring her to call a bluff:

"You know something that I don't," Helena growled. "You think you have some way to access the god powers, don't you? Does Rothbart know?"

Akainu merely smiled that infuriatingly cryptic smile.

"And another thing. Why bring me to my daughter? What kind of plan do you have up your sleeve? It's always something, you wily bast…"

He shook a finger at her. "Ah ah, I thought you wouldn't sully those queenly lips of yours with foul language, Majesty." His gaze snagged on her belts for a moment, and he looked back at her face with a grin. "Those are nice," he said.

Did he know what they were? Why didn't he take them away?

He refused to give her any more information, and eventually they settled into an uneasy silence. Helena couldn't help but fume internally. Sakazuki always had a plan, and she hated to think he was using her to accomplish his own ends.

Soon he had her on a bondola, loaded with other slaves. Helena had ridden one once as a child, but it had been so long ago that she couldn't help but stare in amazement at the bubble contraption before they shoved her below deck. Stuffed shoulder to shoulder with other slaves, she wouldn't get any sort of view of their ascent of the Red Line.

Still fuming over Akainu and trying to figure out why he would want her reunited with Kuina, it took her a moment to register a hiss at her feet. Squinting in the darkness, she looked down to see Lady coiled about ankles.

"Ah, so you made it, you silly snake. I was wondering where you were."

"She's been hanging around me," a slave beside her admitted, giving Lady a scratch on the chin. The snake had Foxy tied to her with a ribbon for safe keeping. "Let's just say she wasn't about to let us perform a Kuina rescue mission without her."

"Shakky?" Helena spluttered, turning to her in surprise. The woman wore no collar, yet lounged with the other slaves as though she belonged there. "How did you get here?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied dismissively.

"Where's Rayleigh?" Helena asked. "Is he back at the bar? Is that why you're here?"

"Rayleigh is scaling the Red Line by hand," she said dismissively, as though he performed Herculean feats every day. "He has your swords now, by the way. He'll get them to you when we reach the top."

"He's what?" Helena spluttered. Scaling the Red Line by hand? Was he nuts? Maybe Shakky was just messing with her.

"Honestly, I thought he'd gotten cold feet at the auction house when he saw Akainu was there," Helena admitted.  
Shakky chuckled. "Cold feet, eh? No, but Akainu would have recognized him, which would have blown our plan. Honestly, we should be thanking him. We had no way of insuring that a World Noble would purchase you. He's given you a direct pass to Marie Jois. Not only that, but he's sending you straight to Rothbart."

"That's what worries me," Helena admitted. "It's almost like he knows what I'm planning to do. Like he _wants_ me to do it! I mean, he didn't even disarm me!"

This gave Shakky pause. "That is concerning. Do you think he will try to intervene?"

"I have no idea. You'd think he'd have done me in at the auction house. It's not like anyone wanted to buy me, so he didn't have any political repercussions to worry about. Not to mention I'm a wanted criminal and he hates me and my family. He has no reason to keep me alive."

"We can't do anything about it. Just be vigilant," Shakky advised. "We have to focus on rescuing young Kuina before anything happens to her."

"How do we know something hasn't already?"

Shakky sighed. "We don't," she said heavily.

* * *

"I won't bore you with the details," Helena told the Straw Hats. Her tone had become dead during this part of the telling, like she was afraid to think or feel too much about what she was saying. "Suffice it, they took me to Rothbart's manor. There is a bit of a process, vetting incoming slaves. They didn't recognize my belts were swords though, so I went in armed."

"What about Shakky?" Zoro asked. "You said she didn't have a collar."

"Shakky told me I was on my own, and that Rayleigh would find me to give me the rest of my swords sooner or later. She left me to the process as soon as our Bondola reached the top of the Red Line," Helena explained.

"That process ends with branding," Robin pointed out, and at this Zoro turned to look sharply at Helena.

"Wait, were you…?"

Helena smiled wryly at him. "No, they didn't brand me. I didn't give them the chance."

* * *

Helena stared wide-eyed at the line of chained slaves in front of her, one by one having the backs of their clothing torn open to expose them to the brand. The ones who struggled ended up with a botched brand and had to be marked again. Their pained screams made Helena's bound hands itch toward her swords. They were out of reach, and they'd manacled her feet to a long chain, keeping her in line with her fellow slaves. She'd have to wait until the opportune moment.

Two slavers would take off the foot manacles, removing their captive from the line before they held each victim down. Then a man with a white robe, a Celestial Dragon, did the actual branding. It wasn't Coppelius Rothbart, but inevitably one of his horrible kin. Another Coppelius. A son perhaps? He had the same type of owlish face, but younger and without a beard. Helena hated him on sight.

She forced herself to take deep breaths. Either this would go very well or very poorly.

When her turn came, they didn't need to tear open the back of her dress. The dance costume already exposed a good portion of her back, and the dragon claw scar Regent had left on it. The slavers discussed the mark, and decided it best to brand her right in the middle of it, but Helena didn't give them a chance.

The instant the slavers lay her down on the slab, she arched her flexible back. Kicking up and crossed her legs behind her, she used her toes to grab hold of her belt swords. In an instant she had slain the two slavers helping with the branding.

She used her foot swords to catch the brand in the Celestial Dragon's hands, and flipped it so that it flew free of his grasp.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you!" the Coppelius shrieked in both fear and disgust, lifting what appeared to be a detonator. He pointed it at Helena's collar. "I can blow your head off with the touch of a button!"

Helena smirked at him. She lifted her bound hands, and tapped the pin of the collar, starting the timer.

"What are you smiling about?"

Helena's smile widened. The dragon took a nervous step back.

"I'm warning you!"

In an instant, Helena disappeared, reappearing moments later behind the dragon's back. She soon had him pressed against her, her chained arms holding him tightly to her so he could hear the ticking bomb in his own ear. Here on Marie Jois he didn't wear his bubble helm, and so had nothing between himself and the bite of Helena's chains at his throat.

"You might want to give me the key, or you'll be going up in smoke with me, Coppelius."

"Guards!" The dragon screamed, beating futilely at her arms. He clearly had no idea how to get out of the chokehold.

"Master Seigfried!" his men cried, but Helena gave them a glare and they dare not come forward.

The beeping sped up and grew louder, making the dragon's eyes bulge. "GUARDS!" he squealed again.

"They won't close in. You can't feel it through that stupid fat suit of yours, but I've got a sword ready to stab you through back here. They make one move and you're a goner, understand?"

"You'll never get away with this!" the nobleman squealed, but he procured a master key from his belt. He unlocked her cuffed hands, and let her take the key to turn off her collar's detonator.

Soon all her chains lay on the stone floor of the branding room. Her two swords now in her hands, she faced the guards, who all jumped her at once. Despite their heavy armor, she made quick work of them.

She stood amid the carnage, the object of awed stares by her fellow slaves.

"Wait, I know you," Seigfried said, taking in the crown on her brow and the blood on her two blades. "You're…you're the one my father told me about. The Sun Queen! Your daughter came through to be branded just yesterday evening."

Helena stopped dead and turned slowly to face him, her russet eyes ablaze with a golden-red fury.

"You branded my daughter?" she growled. "YOU BRANDED A TODDLER?"

Of course, they had branded her. Helena had dared to hope, had dared to give one more shred of humanity to her captors, had dared to believe they wouldn't go through with such a grisly process on one so young. Why she had thought as much was a mystery to her even then.

Within moments she had run the nobleman through. He never felt the fatal blow. The haki pulsating off of her was enough to knock him and the slaves out cold.

Helena glanced at the unconscious slaves and at her key, then swore under her breath. "I don't have time to free them all. Kuina needs me. Now."

She closed her eyes and focused her haki outward. More guards nearby had heard the ruckus and were on their way. She had maybe a minute before they arrived. She felt a good deal of confusion and fear, but a few floors above she felt an air of merriment. She sensed Rothbart and others of his station. There must have been some sort of party going on in the uppermost floor.

But where was Kuina? Helena couldn't sense her anywhere.

What if…what if the branding had been too much for her? What if it had killed her?

She sensed Shakky before she saw her. Actually, she sensed the approaching guards fall unconscious first, just before Shakky sauntered into the room. A glance down the hallway she'd come from confirmed that she had just taken out a whole regiment of armored soldiers.

Shakky took one look at the carnage surrounding Helena, and decided not to comment on it more than to say:

"I see you have things under control here. Let's go. They're holding Kuina in the harem. It's part of an adjacent building."

"HAREM?" Helena seethed.

Lady hissed her own anger from Shakky's side. She seemed to have a pretty human grasp of the situation, and slithered about impatiently, moving between Helena and Shakky as if to say, "Let's go already."

"Before you go jumping to horrible conclusions," a male voice said. "I think she's being kept there as a matter of status, not to be used in the, ah, same way as the other slave wives."

Rayleigh appeared from around another bend. He looked a bit winded, if only just.

"Took you long enough," Shakky commented. "You're getting old."

He tossed her a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Only because I stopped to swipe some of these for you off a guard."

"You're too good to me," Shakky chuckled, "They're even my brand."

" _Other wives?!_ " Helena snapped, as though the conversation hadn't been interrupted by Rayleigh's arrival. "You're telling me the marriage has already taken place?"

"They don't waste time, these nobles," Shakky commented, "Come, I can lead you to the Harem."

Rayleigh tossed Helena swords to her and started after his wife, Lady quick to match pace with the couple. It took them all a moment to realize that Helena hadn't moved.

"Roronoa-Chan?"

Helena stood in a shadowed corner of the servant's quarters, the rage still flowing off of her in palpable waves. She could feel the fires of Tartarus burning in her soul, an anger so powerful it threatened every moment to overwhelm her.

"We need to hurry, Your Majesty," Rayleigh attempted.

"Don't call me that," Helena seethed. "Akainu implied they might know how to access the god powers through Kuina. If Rothbart married her, I have to end the marriage."

Shakky took a huff of one of her newfound cigarettes, letting lose a small stream a smoke before speaking. "And how do you propose to do that?"

The warrior queen raised her bloodied sword.

* * *

Three floors up, Rothbart raised a glass of wine in merriment; a toast among his fellows. "To the Sun Queen's daughter! Harbinger of prosperity," he burbled. "One day she might grow into a fine swan for my little collection. But even now she is worth more than all of them combined. To the little, moss-curled Cygnet, newest of my wives!"

Drunken voices echoed his own.

"And this just in, my fellows," Rothbart went on, a huge grin on his tiny mouth. "I overheard from the Fleet Admiral himself that the trollop, Helena du Cygnus had been captured by slavers after making a mess of my favorite opera house.

He took a deep swig from a diamond encrusted goblet and went on. "I said to the old Red Dog, 'Akainu,' I said. 'How can I go to the auction house when I've got my own wedding to attend?' And do you know what he said to me? 'Saint Coppelius Rothbart,' he said, 'I will make sure she is yours. And that it won't cost you a berry more after all your troubles.'"

He laughed loudly with his cohorts.

"So a toast to the Sun Queen, who will finally have a proper brand on her back!" he cried, "A toast to the wayward trollop who dallies with a pirate when she could have had a god. Hoo hoo hoo!"

"Petty, vain, power hungry," a confident female alto cut through the tittering chatter. Something about the voice commanded immediate attention, and the room fell silent. "If I have learned anything about the gods, you'd fit right in with them, Rothbart."

He swayed and turned to look at her. A smarmy grin spread across is little mouth as he seemed to recognize her, only to open his enormous eyes in sudden shock when he got a decent look at her. She sat in all confidence atop one of the tables, legs crossed, cleaning one of her rapier of blood. A six-foot, ivory-colored serpent circled her, hissing menacingly.

"Wait, where is your collar? Why are you armed?"

Helena smiled. "Tell me something, Rothbart," she asked. "Do gods bleed?"

She threw a slash from where she sat. Rothbart looked on in drunken horror as the glowing line made contact with his chest, flipping him clean over his table. He landed on the floor with a crash, his guests screaming for the guards.

No guards came to their rescue. Rothbart could only presume Helena had already disposed of them. His fellow nobles were no help. A few had drawn their pistols, but most had already fled.

He stared in horror as blood soaked his once pristine white robes.

"Hm, not a god after all," Helena sauntered over to him. She knelt close, tipping his chin up to her with the tip of her dagger. "Neither was your son."

Siegfried.

"How dare you, you peasant witch," he snarled. "I'll see you quartered for this."

"What a lovely idea," Helena replied. "I was just wondering how I should end you."

She stood, one foot on his chest, and flipped her dagger about her hand. It glinted evilly in the light of expensive crystal chandeliers. Rothbart could think of no way to defend himself, and then…

A gun shot rang through the air. The Sun Queen slumped, still on her feet, but no longer as threatening.

"You shouldn't let such a lowlife intimidate you like that, Rothbart, it's unseemly."

Saint Charloss had come to his aid. At least he had a few friends with guts enough to open fire!

But then he noticed that Helena sported no wounds on her white dancer's tunic. Her slumped posture had come from dodging the bullet.

"It's sad to me that such pathetic people hold so much of the world's power," Helena said. "Die."

The rest of Charloss' family also opened fire on the misfit queen, but their attempts to bring her under control were in vain. They distracted her just enough for Rothbart to wriggle away, clutching the gushing wound on his chest, but otherwise they only managed to irritate their target further.

"Hephaestus HAMMER!"

She leapt into the air, turned a flip, and then brought down the hilt of her finely crafted sea stone weapon into the white marble floor. Cracks spread from the point of contact, shooting about the room like black lightning. A shockwave knocked all of the nobles to the floor.

Helena looked at Rothbart. He'd come to rest against a load bearing pillar. An evil grin split her face, she drew more of her blades, crossed them before her, and then:

"Chariot of Apollo!"

She crashed into Rothbart in a blaze of fire, and his world went black.


	30. Chapter 30 - The Swan Lake

A/N: Special thanks to the husband for his help with writing Shakky and Rayleigh's interactions in these chapters. I've mentioned a few times that he's my sounding board, and I find his input invaluable. Love that man so much. I think I'll have his babies. Oh wait, already have.

Also, to explain a probably lesser known reference: La Sylphide is one of the first ballets to have a dancer go en pointe for an extended time. The Sylph in said ballet died when her lover, distraught that she always flew away from him, tried to remove her wings to keep her with him.

* * *

Ch. 30 – The Swan Lake

Helena left the building to burn behind her. She had tasked Rayleigh and Shakky with freeing the slaves before she'd paid Rothbart a visit. They worked exceptionally fast. Through Haki she sensed the building devoid of life by the time the pair met her in front of the opulent Harem doors, the master key in hand.

"I sense she is in there," Rayleigh said, and Helena nodded. She could feel Kuina's aura too; her raw, angry, hurt, confused presence. Helena could sense, almost hear though without her ears, that the young child cried. It was a type of scream-cry of true pain and anguish that Helena had never heard from her child before, had never hoped to hear, and her eyes glazed at the sound.

Helena sensed a change in her daughter the moment the ex-queen placed the master key in the lock of the door. Kuina ceased crying and spoke one word, a word so full of emotion Helena could hear it loud and clear as though she already stood in the room:

"MAMA!"

Kuina could sense her. Helena remembered what Mihawk had said about her child's precocious ability with observation haki.

Helena threw open the doors. – beautiful cedar doors carved through and inlaid with golden tree filigree. The moment they banged open she could hear with ears what she had only heard in her mind through haki previously: the gut-wrenching sobs of her child.

Helena dashed into an enormous atrium; a veritable forest of rare trees. Various women sat about a large, trickling fountain complete with live swans and lily pads. Dressed in romantic era tutus, with tulle draping down to their mid calves, the graceful women looked like something straight out of La Sylphide. Only these ballerinas wore heavy bomb collars about their throats and their low backed gowns showed the dragon's claw on their backs; these sylphs had no wings to escape with.

They had gathered about the new bride, many weeping on her behalf. Kuina sat on the lip of fountain, trussed up in an enormous, bell shaped bridal gown complete with a lace veil and beading. She wore it unzipped, her upper body exposed as an albino woman with pure white skin and whispy hair attempted to change the bandages of the wound on her back.

Another woman held Kuina to her; a woman with a fresh brand herself. Marie.

"Yelene!" she cried, seeing Helena burst through the door. Tears streamed down the poor woman's face. But Helena didn't have a thought to spare for her. She dashed to the fountain and fell at her daughter's feet. Marie moved aside, allowing Helena to take her place.

"Kuina," she cried, "Kuina I'm so sorry."

She pulled Kuina to her, her daughter hugging her fiercely, little body taut with pain and emotion.

"Want Papa!" she wailed. "Want Yuffy come punch bubble man!"

"Shh…shh…" she stroked Kuina's curls, "You don't have to worry about the bubble man hurting you ever again. I've made sure of it." She pulled away and nodded at the woman bandaging Kuina to continue.

"You kiww bad man?"

Helena hated that her daughter knew the word. But she nodded. "Yes, he is gone forever. And we are going to go find your Papa, alright? And to find Captain Luffy too. And the whole crew! Then you can live on board the Thousand Sunny. Would you like that?"

Kuina nodded once, face still contorted into a sad pout.

"Your Majesty, we don't have much time," Rayleigh reminded her.

"Majesty…?" Marie gasped.

"I told you not to call me that," Helena shot at Rayleigh, quickly unlocking Kuina's collar and placing it aside. "Yes, Marie. My name is not Yelene. I'm the real Helena de Zoro. And this is my daughter Kuina, not Kina." She handed Marie the key, "Hurry and unlock your collars. I'm sure we'll have some pretty heavy hitters from the navy breathing down our necks any second. We need to move."

"Is it true you killed Rothbart?" Marie asked, unlocking the albino woman's collar just as she finished tying off Kuina's bandages.

"Yes, and his son Seigfried also," Helena said, placing a soft kiss on the raw red mark the collar had left behind on her daughter's neck. "And possibly a whole slew of other Celestial Dragons attending his reception. I wouldn't be surprised if we see an Admiral soon, even with Navy HQ being moved."

She loosened her grip on Kuina, helped her back into her dress sleeves and zipped it back up over the bandages. Kuina whimpered loudly in pain, but then Lady came and hissed in her ear, tickling her. It wasn't enough to make her laugh, but it did bring the ghost of a smile back to her face. She hugged Lady, and the fox plush she carried, tightly to her.

Marie unlocked every woman's collar, then unlocked her own. The concubines all looked at Helena with expressions varying from terror to grim acceptance as she lifted her daughter and turned to go.

One among them, a dark, older woman, full figured and beautiful, placed herself in Helena's path. She was possibly around her father's age, though with her dancer's body and perfect skin she had an eternal youth to her. She lifted one palm toward the ex-queen, her other arm extended to her side in second position

"Madam, I don't know who you are; forgive my shrewdness, but why should we trust you?" she demanded, ruby eyes sharp and keen.

A black feathered crown, sprinkled with garnets, sat perched atop her textured hair. Where the others wore pastels, she was the only one dressed in black; a beaded black, prima tutu, black tights, and black satin shoes. Helena couldn't help but admire her pluck. She was clearly the empress of Rothbart's swans.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Theodora," the dancer replied. "I have survived for many years here, and see it as my duty to help the others do the same."

"Theodora, you have no reason to trust me, aside from the fact that I could have left you here to face the wrath of the government for allowing this little one to go free," Helena replied, nodding to the toddler cradled in her arms. "If you stay here, the outcome seems grim. If you run, you have a chance at freedom. But there isn't time to argue. You must all weigh the risks and choose for yourselves."

Helena sidestepped the dark swan. The rest of the flock looked to their leader, who nodded and turned to follow their rescuer out of the gate and into the unknown.

Helena didn't have eyes for them anymore. All she cared about sat cradled in her arms at the moment; Kuina's freedom was the only thing that truly mattered.

* * *

"We split up after that," Helena said somberly. "Rayleigh said he and Shakky knew how to lead the other slaves to safety back on his side of the Red Line. He told me I was on my own to find my way into the New World."

"There's something I don't understand," Robin interrupted, expression pensive. "When your bounty increased, the news only mentioned you killing _one_ Celestial Dragon, not two, and certainly not a whole party of them."

Helena got a strange feeling in her gut at this revelation. While on the run, she hadn't exactly had a chance to read the newspaper. Did this mean a Coppelius had survived? If so, which one? "

"I wasn't aware that my bounty had increased," Helena went on, not sure she wanted to discuss the implications if Rothbart had survived.

"You're at 200,000,000 berries," Zoro said, grinning at her proudly.

It actually lifted Helena's spirits some, to see the look on his face as he said it. "Wait, isn't that higher than yours?" she goaded.

"Not for long," he countered, and she nudged him playfully in the ribs.

"Kuina has a wanted poster now as well," Robin said, showing it to her.

Helena's heart caught in her throat, any touch of joviality completely wiped from her expression when she caught sight of her daughter's cute face on the parchment. They had chosen to use the painting done on the day she'd been introduced to the kingdom. She wore her first laurel crown, and that fluffy green dress that she loved, made by Diddy of course.

"So the World Government now acknowledges her existence," Helena growled, then tapped the poster. "This just isn't right. She's too young to have to deal with all this."

"We'll keep her safe," Zoro assured her. "Anyway, in years to come she'll brag about this, I guarantee it."

"He's right you know," Robin nodded sagely. "It's a good start. If she can beat my bounty before she turns eight, I'll get her a real fox."

Helena chuckled, and tried to really feel it but she mostly just felt like crying. She kept her voice steady though: "I forget that pirates take pride in their bounties. And Kuina's a true pirate now if she's officially joined the crew."

"Ohhh, Chopper is going to be so mad," Usopp chortled in sudden humor. "Her bounty is higher than his!"

"I don't think there's a bounty out there that isn't higher than his," Nami pointed out, and the crew laughed.

"He'll just have to work harder to be more threatening than a two-year-old," Usopp guffawed, slapping his thigh.

"She's at 35,000,000. You can't really talk, Usopp. Yours is lower than hers too," Sanji pointed out to a chorus of laughter from the rest of the crew.

Helena smiled more genuinely at this. It was nice to see that Kuina was in such good, and good-natured, hands. The Straw Hats really had a way of bringing hope and humor into an otherwise hopelessly painful situation. She wanted Kuina to grow up with that kind of strength.

"Now that I think about it, it shouldn't come as a surprise that she's got a wanted poster now," Helena admitted when the laughter died down. "It's not like they could hide her after Rothbart caught wind of her. I mentioned it was something Akainu didn't want the Celestial Dragons to know about, particularly _that_ Celestial Dragon. But when it happened, he decided to get me to do his dirty work for him."

"What to you mean?" Zoro asked. "Are you saying he _wanted_ you to kill Rothbart?"

* * *

"Oh, well done, Helena _de_ _Zoro…"_

Helena stopped dead at the slow clap behind her.

"I knew you'd take care of that problem for me."

Helena turned slowly in the manicured streets to face Akainu where he stood, backlit by the semi-distant fires she had initiated. All of the Coppelius properties had gotten the torch by now, more than she could have done on her own. Some of the freed slaves must have wanted to mark their own defiance somehow. It wasn't like Rayleigh could keep track of all of them; anyway, why stop them? All the chaos made for an easier escape. Besides, it was fitting that Rothbart's property should burn after Ilium had done so.

"What problem?" she asked cautiously. She had her hand on her sea stone dagger. It was her only chance, but not much of one.

"The problem you created," Akainu admitted, shrugging his large shoulders. For a moment he seemed genuine and conversational. "If you hadn't let slip about your daughter to Rothbart, I wouldn't have had the balance of power to worry about."

"Balance of power?" Helena asked, maintaining eye contact. Sensing the danger, Lady hissed at Akainu from her feet. The serpent slithered up her leg and gently eased Kuina from the Queen's back, freeing her up to fight.

"But of course," Akainu said, acting surprised. "Do you think the Navy actually WANTS the nobles to have access to a power like that?"

Helena's mouth dropped open without a retort in mind. It had never occurred to her that the Navy would want to do anything _against_ the desires of the World Nobles. After all, ten battleships full of men went down because Rothbart wanted a buster call against Ilium.

Sakazuki replied as though reading her mind, "The only reason Rothbart went after you in the first place was because your mother's use of the god powers to flee her marriage became a huge scandal. We couldn't exactly hide it from the World Nobles after the papers went crazy about it. Every one loves a sordid affair, after all."

He sauntered closer to her as he spoke. Helena took a step back, one hand still on her blade, though the other she held protectively in front of Lady and the whimpering Kuina.

Akainu squatted down and tilted his head as though to glance under her arm at the injured toddler. "But then Rothbart caught wind of you, little one. We couldn't exactly deny him his request." He smiled winningly at Kuina, then turned the expression on Helena. "The law, and therefore justice dictated that we let him have what he wanted. But I was hopeful I would find an opportunity to…nullify the arrangement he made with your daughter."

"You _wanted_ me to kill him?" Helena gasped.

He shook his head, tutting. "Such a nasty way of putting it," he said airily. "But really, what other choice did you or I have?"

"Again, you're talking as though the sibyl isn't dead," Helena remarked. "The gods do not communicate with our family anymore. You realize that, right? Without a sibyl, a marriage to one of us is useless."

Sakazuki let out a little chuckle. "Can't be too careful," he said, but Helena narrowed her eyes at him all the same. He definitely knew something she didn't.

"So as a _mere_ precaution of an _unlikely_ circumstance, you gave me the perfect opportunity to assassinate someone you otherwise couldn't touch."

"Something like that," he smirked, standing to his full height so that he loomed intimidatingly over her. "Now the only thing left to do is carry out justice on his murderer; an already wanted criminal facing the death penalty upon capture."

Helena looked up at him, her face calm despite the fury boiling beneath the surface. She drew without blinking; without showing any indication that she had decided to go for her dagger.

He caught her wrist easily before she could slash into him with the sea prism. "Now, now. We wouldn't want that sweet little one to witness violence against Justice, would we?"

Still unblinking, Helena dropped her dagger. She didn't have a chance against Akainu, and they both knew it.

"Spare her," she requested, almost commanded really.

"Oh, I intend to," Akainu replied, drawing his free hand back into a steaming fist. "After she started to glow at that attempted execution, I now believe the rumor that one of you royals will become immortal at the death of the others. If we're all honest, we'd all rather it be the innocent child, wouldn't we?"

"The naïve child you mean," Helena sneered. She couldn't believe him capable of any true benevolence.

"She has a cleaner slate," he admitted, and his fist took on an orange glow. "Much easier to fill with correct teaching."

"To indoctrinate, you mean," Helena filled in.

"Mama?" Kuina's voice quivered.

"Lady, cover her eyes. I don't want her to see this."

The fist dripped with magma now.

"Farewell, Sun Queen," Akainu sneered. "You have been most useful. I hope your death draws your husband to us. I've been wanting to bring that crew to justice personally."

His fist turned to lava. A deadly grin seared across his face. Helena looked back at Kuina, wanting something good to be the last thing her mortal eyes saw.

"Not so fast, Sakazuki-Chii."

Akainu and Helena turned to look at Shakky, who had appeared almost out of nowhere beside them in the street, her smoking cigarette in hand. The Fleet Admiral seemed so surprised to see her that he paused in his execution.

"You," he growled. "You're one of Roger's despicable crew."

"And you killed the captain's son," Shakky intoned, and her normally calm voice turned sinister. "There's no love between us, Sakazuki-Chii. Trust me."

"I do what I can to end that man's legacy," Akainu snarled.

"And yet the search for the One Piece continues."

This struck an apparent nerve. One raw enough to turn all of his anger on Shakky. His burning fist flew toward her, the heat lifted her hair, then scorched her cigarette to cinders, but the blow never landed. Helena blinked and Rayleigh stood between Shakky and certain death.

His blackened sword connected with Akainu's fist, and held. The shockwave to follow threw Helena a few feet backward and onto the ground, where she used her fall to protect Kuina and Lady from flying debris.

But Shakky didn't stumble. With Rayleigh's sword the only thing between herself and incineration, she retrieved a new cigarette and lit it on Akainu's fist. Taking a deep drag, she blew a stream of smoke into his face, then turned back to where she had come from:

"I'll take care of the other's dear," she said to Rayleigh, and then sauntered away with her usual gate, hips swinging from side to side.

"Dark King," Akainu growled, his eyes literally aflame. He obviously wanted to throw a magma ball in Shakky's direction, but Rayleigh commanded his full attention.

The old pirate matched his gaze, face calm, but with eyes as sharp and dangerous as his blade.

"Rayleigh," Helena spluttered, feeling as though she had interrupted something important that had nothing to do with her. "Don't you have slaves to liberate?"

"I wouldn't worry about them, your Majesty," he said calmly, never breaking eye contact with Akainu. "Shakky's got it covered. And that Theodora knows how to take charge. Now I would use this opportunity to run if I were you."

"You won't get far," Akainu snarled, but didn't look at her. Helena suddenly realized that, old as Rayleigh was, not even the Fleet Admiral of the entire World Navy could risk a glance away from this fight.

"I wouldn't worry your Majesty," Rayleigh retorted with a smirk. "He's blowing hot air. Now go."

Helena grabbed her dagger and whirled around without a second bidding. She scooped Kuina up in her arms and sprinted away with Lady at her heels. The child lifted a weary hand and waved goodbye to Rayleigh as they went. Though he couldn't turn around to look, he obviously sensed it and raised his free hand to make a little wave back at her, a smile spreading across his wrinkled cheeks.

"Now, Magma Brat," Helena heard him sneer at the Fleet Admiral. "Your move."


	31. Chapter 31 - The Ink Ink Fruit

A/N: Sooo, Ch. 32 is technically not finished yet. Between potty training and sick kiddos, not sure it will be done by next sunday. I guess we've come to an end of my steady, weekly updates for now. Thank you to everyone who posted such lovely, encouraging reviews!

* * *

Ch. 31 – The Ink Ink Fruit

"I ran like Hades," Helena admitted to her completely enthralled audience. She swallowed her guilt, knowing she hadn't had much choice. Kuina took priority over honor in that situation; rather, honor dictated that she protect her child at any cost. "I don't know what happened to Rayleigh after that…"

In her mind's eye, she could see the flashes of orange light, the shockwaves of power, the toppling of buildings as the two legends went at each other. She'd only caught glimpses, but had heard the rumbles of destruction getting farther and farther away as she ran.

"We can only assume he made it out alright," Robin said, cutting into her thoughts.

"What are you talking about," Nami spluttered. "If he'd done any injury to Akainu, surely everyone would have heard about it."

"His death or capture would also have been reported," Robin pointed out. "We've heard nothing, and in this case, I'd definitely say that no news is good news."

Helena nodded. "That is a relief to hear," she said, though it didn't surprise her. Rayleigh was strong, but she felt reassured all the same.

"Where were you headed after that?" Zoro asked. "How did you get down the other side of the red line?"

"The only place for me to go were the mechanical bondolas on the New World side, which brought me straight through Navy Head-quarters," Helena almost laughed even as she said it.

"Sounds suicidal," Zoro pointed out.

"Yup."

"So how did you make it through?"

"Oh, I ran into an old friend."

* * *

Navy HQ had been scrambled for the emergency on Marie Jois. Someone had carried out a horrible attack on one of the noble families, one that ended in arson. Captain Coby had been dispatched with some of his men to help capture the threat, but then the threat came to him before he left his jurisdiction. As Helena made to disembark from the bondola, she met a platoon of marines, their rifles at the ready.

He sensed her powerful, angry, panicked presence before he actually saw her. The Sun queen had always had a distinct fire to her aura, a burning gold if one could put a color to it. But he also sensed Kuina's sweet, young, verdant presence, her normally cheerful aura dimmed with a red mask of pain.

He didn't want to connect the dots, didn't want to understand why they were here or what they'd had to do with the attacks in Marie Jois, but their emotion brought tears to the empath's eyes. And when the ship descended, and the door fell open; when he finally caught sight of the ex-Queen and Princess of Ilium, he couldn't help but notice young Kuina's white wedding dress.

"Stand down," he commanded his men. "That woman would tear you all to ribbons in a heartbeat. Leave her to me. The rest of you head up to Marie Jois for rescue and cleanup."

"Come on, men!" Helmeppo called out, taking the lead. Coby sensed, rather than saw the Vice Captain glance his way through his sunglasses. "You heard the Captain!"

"Like, permission to stay as backup Captain," Nausicaa put in suddenly, saluting. "I believe my powers could be of use."

"Permission granted, sailor."

The other marines saluted and dashed into the bondola awaiting them. Helena stepped off of the ship and let the men pass, her russet gaze never leaving Coby's face.

"Please," he murmured the moment they stood alone. "Please don't tell me that all of this means what I think it means."

The careful mask hiding the queen's emotions cracked for a moment, her lip quivered in rage, and she nodded. All the emotion she tried to hide found an outlet in her hand, the one holding Kuina to her. It became a claw, curled in protective fury, inadvertently digging into what was an obvious wound on the child's back. Kuina cried out in pain.

She'd been branded.

Helena loosened her grip in consternation, murmuring a sincere apology as she stroked her daughter's curls.

When Coby's unit disappeared into the clouds above, Coby fell to his knees, tears pouring down his face.

"Your Majesty," he croaked. "This is all my fault…"

"Don't call me that," Helena corrected in a firm tone. "And no, it's not. It is mine."

"But I was the one who…"

"They would have found out about her eventually," Helena assured him. "Their spies were quite proficient. After all, they were the ones who toppled our country in the end."

Coby looked up at her, his face a mess of tears and anger. "That absolves me of nothing," he insisted. "Your Majesty, I owe you recompense for my mistake. I will do what I can to help you escape this place. If so doing results in my demotion or demise, so be it."

"Captain…" Nausicaa murmured. She too had tears streaming down her face.

"Do not try to stop me, sailor," he snapped at her, getting to his feet.

"No, I was legit hoping that was what you were planning to do," she said gently. "'Sides, if I let you go through with this I'll probs hang for treason too. We're in this together."

"Nausicaa-San…"

"Anyway, I have an idea that's totes cray cray, but just might work."

"I'm listening," Helena said.

"Take my uniform," she said, already starting to pull the shirt over her head. Coby flushed and whipped around, his hands over his eyes.

"N-N-Nausicaa-San!" he spluttered, feeling his face redden to the tips of his ears.

She ignored him. "We can, like, pretend you defeated us and stole my uniform," she said to Helena. "You could easily kick my butt at least, el oh el, so you'll just need to, like, knock me out with your sea prism sword maybe? Captain would probably give you a run for your money, tho', so you'll probs have to leave a decent wound as evidence or it won't be convincing."

"It's not a bad plan," Helena conceded. "Your uniform may be a bit short on me though."

"You'll have to make it work for now," Nausicaa insisted. The rustling of clothes continued, and Coby could only assume Helena had started to change per Nausicaa's instruction. "Like, you can steal a bigger uniform when you get on board one of our ships. But, like, try not to get mine dirty, ok?"

"What of Kuina?" Helena asked.

"Hide her in a crate or something, then carry her in to one of the storage rooms. You can lay low with her there, and steal what you need until you make landfall."

"You'll have to be extra careful though," Coby put in, "One of the ships leaving belongs to an Admiral. With his haki skills, he will no doubt detect your presence before too long. Anyway, we'll have to report the stolen uniform, so they may be on the lookout for you regardless."

"I'll be fine," Helena said, "You can turn around now, Captain."

He turned to face them only to whip away again, red faced and holding his coat out to Nausicaa behind his back. "Cover yourself, please, sailor."

"Aw, Captain. You are, like, the sweetest," she responded, taking his jacket. After a moment, he dared a peek and then turned back to them.

Nausicaa stood wrapped in his coat, a smirk on her face. Helena had a dubious expression on though. As she had expected, Nausicaa's uniform was a bit short on her in the midriff and ankles, but she'd be able to blend in alright if she kept her head down.

She settled Nausicaa's ball cap smartly onto her head, and saluted palm forward, striking her heels together. Nausicaa and Coby chuckled. "Well then, I guess I'll be off. Consider your debts more than repaid, both of you."

Coby knelt to where Kuina stood, her arms wrapped around a green fox plush as she stared up at him. The Captain chuckled at the sight of the toy. It was even missing an eye. Of course she loved it! It reminded her of her father.

"Bye bye, little one," he said, holding a hand out to her. "Best of luck to you."

A large, ivory snake darted between them, hissing at him. He hastily withdrew his hand.

"No, Yady. Bad," Kuina said, grabbing at the serpent to Coby's complete surprise. "He nice. He save me from doggy man."

"So you remember me," Coby said, a smile spreading the corners of his lips. "I'm so glad. I hope I look less scary this time."

"You have funny hair," she said, perhaps an indication of how she remembered him. "It yike cotton candy."

He laughed. "You're one to talk! You have funny hair too, you know."

"My hair funny yike papa," Kuina insisted, grinning.

Coby laughed again. "That it is," he said. "Safe journey to you, little princess."

He held out his hand again, and Kuina took it in both of hers. Helena smiled a soft, but stressed smile at the scene, then went to lift her daughter again when the telltale puru-puru-puru of a den den mushi rang out from Coby's jacket.

"Captain," Nausicaa said, her face taut as she held the snail out to him.

"You probably shouldn't answer it," Helena pointed out, drawing her dagger, "Remember, you're currently fighting me right now."

Coby shook his head, "That's precisely why I should answer it, for this ruse to work." He lifted the receiver, "This is Captain Coby. I have eyes on the perp!"

"Good, good, I was hoping you'd say that," Akainu's deep voice rumbled through the snail. Helena and Nausicaa exchanged worried glances. "Your men just reported to me that you'd found her. You should have reported in. But no matter. Just keep her there until I can reach you."

"Easier said than done, sir," Coby replied in a purposely belabored voice, winking at Helena. "She has me on the ropes!"

"Is she within earshot?"

"I'm right here, Akainu you dastard. I have honor enough not to attack a man with his guard down."

"And that will get you killed, Your Majesty," he simpered.

"Hang up the phone, we've got a fight to finish," Helena spat convincingly.

"Now wait, Helena de Troy; there's something you should know."

Helena's eyes narrowed. "De Troy?" she asked. "What the Hades, Akainu?"

"Oh, that's right. You didn't end up with that fool. And after we worked so hard to groom him into the perfect weapon against you."

This struck an obvious chord; Coby could see it in Helena's face. Akainu was up to his old tactics again, stalling her until he could get there. Messing with her mind. Coby wanted to hang up right then, but if he did their ruse would be completely spoiled, leaving not only himself, but Nausicaa in danger.

"Aren't you curious to know what we did to him?"

"So you admit it!" Helena snarled.

"Oh, yes. Naturally one doesn't undergo a personality change as drastic as his without help," Akainu simpered. "He was such a sweet man before we got to him, wasn't he? So loyal and virtuous. The ideal soldier and citizen. -He did have one major flaw of course; his complete obsession with you."

Helena's face hardened. "What did you do?" she demanded.

"He made it so obvious, his intention to win your hand. He spoke of nothing but your virtues and prowess and beauty to the other men. Such an obvious weakness simply begged to be exploited."

"What. Did. You. Do!" Helena snapped.

"It was rather simple, really. We gave him a devil fruit."

Helena let out a breath of impatience through her nostrils, but before she could put words to her frustration, Akainu cut her off:

"Oh, but not just any devil fruit, Your Majesty. You see, all devil fruits have an effect on their users to some degree. Mine for example gives me a taste for spicy food," he tacked that last bit on with a chuckle of humor before going on lightly. "We just happened to have one that darkened the soul and the mind. The Ink Ink Fruit is notorious for driving its users crazy; for amplifying their obsessions. – All I had to do was idly let him know about what might happen to you if we succeeded. –let's just say I 'accidentally' let him catch a glimpse of the Celestials and their slave trade. Then I dropped hints that your country had already been infiltrated, and voila. The perfect storm."

"Oh gods," Helena gasped. "He knew about Cipher Pol?"

"Yes. I understand he took out at least one of their agents, but that may have just been dumb luck. He obviously didn't figure out who the rest of them were, or he'd have used his guise as Nemo to take more of them down."

Helena trembled with rage. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"He wanted to rescue you on his own, I understand," Akainu simpered. "Wanted to be your prince charming. And yet, all the while he was working for us."

Helena chuffed. "Well, the jokes on you," she scoffed. "In the end he had no intention of turning the country over to you. He wanted to use the God Powers for himself, to destroy the World Government and the Navy!"

"Of course he did!" Akainu chortled. "But, you see, I was the one who gave him that fruit. I had heavily researched it's powers, and I knew its every weakness. Do you really think a fruit that thrives on darkness could defeat glowing magma? I'd have burned him to ash before your nuptials could take place, and claimed you for myself."

"Wait a minute. I never knew you considered yourself one of my suitors," Helena gasped. "That means…oh gods, you're after Kuina too, aren't you? _That's_ the _real_ reason you wanted me to kill Rothbart!"

The snail smiled at her; a smug smirk perfectly reminiscent of Akainu.

"YOU BASTARD!" she screamed.

Suddenly Coby let out a cry and hung up the snail, tossing it before Helena could make a grab for it. It hit the ground hard enough to knock it out.

"And that's where you struck me in a complete fit of rage, knocking the snail from my hand," he said hastily, "Hurry, your Majesty, there's a Bondola descending through the clouds. I can sense him on board. He was stalling you."

"I'LL KILL HIM!" Helena shrieked.

"You're no match for him," Coby reminded her, "Your Majesty…Queen Helena, please. Think of your daughter. You need to get her to safe…"

Helena lashed out at him suddenly, loosing a stream of red on his white uniform. He fell, the pain enough to engulf his thoughts. She'd hit him pretty hard. Hard enough to be potentially fatal if help weren't already on the way.

"Mama, no!" Kuina sobbed.

"Captain!" Nausicaa cried, but Helena struck her with the butt of the sea prism dagger to the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

The last thing he remembered before blacking out was seeing Helena steal his coat from Nausicaa. "It would be strange if she were covered with you both so injured," she pointed out calmly. Anyway, this way I can keep my midriff from showing. Try not to blush too hard on her behalf, Coby."

Coby smiled despite himself, and let his eyes fall shut.

* * *

"Akainu was behind Troy all along?" Usopp gasped.

"Akainu was after our DAUGHTER ALL ALONG?" Zoro snapped.

"I honestly…I'm not sure," Helena admitted, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "He was trying to stall me, remember? He is notorious for bending the truth to manipulate people. He really wanted me to turn around and fight him."

Zoro took inhis own calming breath. "I can confirm that Akainu was the one pulling the strings with regard to Troy at least," he said. "Troy told me so himself. He said nothing of Cipher Pol or the fruit messing with his mind though." Or had he? He'd talked an awful lot about being Ilium's only true line of defense. And he'd once been confused to tears about the horrible things he'd done.

"It makes a lot of sense," Helena sighed, cutting into Zoro's memory of Troy crying outside the coronation party. "I honestly wish you all could have known him before he'd gone to sea. Before Akainu got to him he was an honorable man – kind, cunning, loyal to a fault. He was all integrity."

"He'd have to have been," Zoro admitted, "To have captured your heart back then."

He didn't say it with malice. Oddly enough, Zoro had never really been jealous of Troy. Calypso got under his skin, but he respected what Troy had been to her before he'd gone mad, and what she had been to him. In a sense, Helena had been to Troy what the original Kuina had been to Zoro.

"So Coby helped you out once again, eh?" Zoro went on, "That kid sure has grown a spine since the first time I met him."

"I just hope he was alright," Helena sighed. "I did hit him pretty hard. And Akainu doesn't strike me as one to take failure lightly…"

* * *

Literally smoldering, the Fleet Admiral glared down at the unconscious captain. A few seconds prior he had leapt over the side of the bondola from several stories up, livid that Helena had cut the call short. She'd obviously taken her wrath out on the poor fool holding the snail.

He recognized him. It was the kid who had stood up to him at Marine Fold. In a way he had to respect the young man's resolve, and he'd approved Coby's appointment to Navy HQ, acknowledging his talents and loyalty.

He was obviously weaker than Akainu had thought though. How disappointing.

There wasn't time to question whether Coby would retain his appointment at the moment. Sakazuki had more important things on his mind: namely that the female sailor lying a few feet from Captain Coby had had her uniform stolen.

"Hmph, trying to blend in, are we?" he rumbled in good humor to himself. They could sniff her out easily enough. She clearly had a few inches on the cadet she had robbed, which explained why she would also steal Coby's coat. But people would spot her quickly if they knew what to look for.

Akainu pulled out a transponder snail. "No ship leaves this port until we have searched all of them, copy? We have Helena the Sun Queen cornered. Look for a tall, thin, white haired woman with a scar by her right eye. She'll be wearing a Captain's coat and an ill-fitting uniform. She has kidnapped a two-year-old child with green hair, and has a trained, six-foot white snake as an accomplice. Over."

Easier not to deal with soldiers with a conscience, Akainu reasoned. Some might have reservations about hurting a mother protecting her daughter.

His snail rang back to life as several voices responded with, "Copy." But then a voice on the other side rambled off a rank and serial number, identifying himself and the ship he served on. "Sir, our ship has already left port. Would you like us to turn back? Over."

"No, but drop anchor. Search all female personnel. Do not leave until we give the all clear. Over."

"Copy that."

A complacent grin spread across the Fleet Admiral's grizzled face. "We have you now, De Zoro," he jeered.


	32. Chapter 32 - The Admiral

A/N: Well lookie here! I managed to finish it. A little later than technically Sunday, but still sundayish.

Also, as of the end of this chapter I AM DONE WITH EXPOSITION! YEYAAAAH!

* * *

Ch. 32 – The Admiral

Several hours after the initial search had begun, and the grin had faded from Sakazuki's face. How could a tall, easily recognizable woman, and a green-haired toddler disappear like this? Particularly with so many people on the lookout?

He wasn't about to let her slip away so easily. She represented Ilium, and Ilium represented his first major defeat long ago. It was an affront to justice that the country had continued to stand for so long thereafter, and an affront to him personally that the likes of Helena de Zoro should continue to elude him.

A clue finally surfaced. Someone had found Coby's Captain's coat and a chef's uniform washed up on the dock. Clearly De Zoro had found another disguise. And her choice to throw it overboard implied that she likely had boarded the ship at sea before it had set out.

"We've checked and rechecked all female personnel," a man by the name of Huckleberry reported over the snail line. He captained the ship currently anchored not far from the shore. "She's not here!"

Akainu's brow furrowed dangerously. "That's not possible," he snarled, "She has to be…"

And then something struck him.

"Wait, you only checked female personnel?"

"You told us to only check the female personnel, sir," Captain Huckleberry replied.

Sakazuki let out an impatient growl. "She must be disguised as a man. Check them all, you idiot!"

* * *

Helena stood at attention on deck with her fellow marines, her hair hidden in her navy ball cap. The only uniform she could find that fit her properly had been a man's uniform, so she had decided to bind herself and go with it, not that she had much to bind. She and the other cadets had overheard Huckleberry's conversation with Akainu through the snail line, though. Her ruse would soon fall to pieces if she didn't think of something.

Honestly, her only hope now would be to hide in the cargo bay with Kuina and Lady. She'd separated herself from her daughter, worried that her strong, obvious aura would give her away, and thus lead anyone with any skill in Observation Haki straight to her. But though she'd jumped aboard the first ship leaving the harbor, she'd scanned it with her own haki first to be sure the Admiral that Coby had warned her about wasn't aboard. Apparently without him, no one in this crew had the ability to sense her, or they would have by now.

Helena took a deep breath and decided to take action. She had to take a risk. Lady had been given explicit instructions to carry out Code Black in case Helena didn't make it back to check on them.

"Sir!" she barked out, her military training making it easy to impersonate a soldier. "Permission to speak freely!"

"Permission granted, marine," the harried captain replied.

"Sir, I think it likely the perp is hiding, rather than impersonating a marine. Permission to lead a more thorough search of the ship."

"We've already searched the ship down to the vents. If she were hiding, we'd have found her by now. You'd think we'd at least have found the kid."

Helena knew this. She'd taken part in the "search" and made sure that she was the one to "thoroughly" inspect the hold where Kuina lay sleeping with Lady as her guard.

"We do nothing else until we've inspected all male personnel. We're looking for someone tall and thin with white hair and a scar by the right eye. No one leaves this deck until they've passed inspection."

"Sir yes sir!" Helena barked. "Permission to go first."

Huckleberry chuckled. "Fine. Remove your hat, marine."

Helena pulled off her hat, revealing a short do of slick, black hair, with a flop of bangs covering her right eye. A half empty can of shoe polish and a broken comb in the trash had been her saving grace here. She'd even combed some into her eyebrows, and carefully dabbed it onto the white peach fuzz above her lip. She prayed no one looked into her white cap, as it definitely showed signs of her impromptu dye job.

"Name and Rank?"

"Troy du Noir, private first class, sir!"

"Regiment?"

"I'm standing with them, sir!" Helena barked, and the men with her chuckled. She hadn't a clue what her regiment was called, but her confidence paid off.

"I'm having a hard time finding the name," the second in command said, flipping through a clipboard. An efficient, bespectacled man, he might have proven to be Helena's undoing if not for the captain's impatience:

"We don't have time for this," the captain barked. A short, bald man with a shorter fuse, he waved aside the man with the clipboard, "Akainu's ready to incinerate us just to get this lady. There has to be a faster way."

"Kick all of us in the bollocks, sir," Helena suggested with a straight face, and the other marines roared with laughter, including Captain Huckleberry.

"Alright, men, I know a less painful way," Huckleberry called, loudly enough for every regiment to hear. "At ease, and shirts off. All of you."

The female cadets had all already been dismissed to continue the search, having been verified in the Vice Captain's more appropriate, yet slow, clerical way. The marines on deck took to jostling one another, making lewd jokes as they untied their neck kerchiefs and worked off their sleeveless tops.

Helena started to untie her kerchief, but took advantage of the hubbub to slip to the back of the group, and then into a side door. Thankfully she made it out unspotted. She ducked into one of the men's bathrooms, knowing that all men should be on deck at the moment. Soap and hot water eventually got the shoe polish off of her face.

The men's uniforms were really only slightly different from the women's. She let out the binding across her chest, and allowed her darkened hair to fall across her eye, hiding scar. Stepping out into the hallway, she ran into a couple of female marines. For a moment, they seemed confused to see her stepping out of the men's loo.

"No one in there," she said, thinking fast. She spoke in her normal tone of voice, no longer trying to access a deeper register. "I've checked the rest of this hallway."

She saluted and the marines saluted back, completely taken in by her confidence. She went one way and the marines another. Walking with purpose, no one stopped to question her, and soon she had managed to sneak back to the cargo hold.

Just in time, too. Another group of marines were working through the hold, guns in hand. As they neared Kuina's hiding place, Helena popped around a corner, faked surprise, and insisted that she and her regiment had checked and rechecked this area. With another well-timed salute she sent them on their way.

When the coast was clear, Helena settled down behind some crates and placed a hand on Kuina's head. Exhausted and overwhelmed, the child lay asleep in Lady's coils. They'd managed to hide near the spare linens, which meant Kuina had a thin, white towel spread over her as a blanket.

"That was close," Helena murmured to Lady. Completely exhausted herself, she lay back against the crates that blocked them from view. Eyes closed, she reached into her pockets and produced a bottle of medicine. "They don't have pediatric stuff here, but I managed to steal some painkiller for Kuina. When things settle down, I'll head out again for some food."

Lady let out an approving hiss.

"I've scoped things out," Helena continued, yawning. "There's a bathroom across the hall. When Kuina needs to go, I can bundle her up in some towels and sneak her over there. Provided Akainu doesn't actually nuke us – wouldn't put it past him – we should have everything we need until they next make port. Then we can sneak ashore and plan our next move. I'll ask around. Someone has to know where the…Straw Hats…are…"

Her head nodded forward, and she gave a start, forcing her eyes open. She slapped at her cheeks, trying to wake herself.

Lady cocked her head, then grabbed a nearby towel and tossed it over Helena's legs.

"I can't sleep yet," Helena insisted, pushing the towel off. "They might perform another search. I have to be prepared to redirect…traffic…."

Lady nudged the towel over her legs again as she yawned. Helena looked at her, and her lips quirked in a half smile:

"Fine," she conceded, laying down beside the snake and placing an arm around Kuina. "But you wake me up at the first sign of trouble."

Lady nodded, and soon Helena drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"All personnel accounted for, sir, we do not have any extras on board," Huckleberry reported through the snail line. "If she was here, perhaps she jumped ship?"

"With a toddler in tow?" Akainu growled back. "Not likely."

"Would you like us to come back in to port?" Huckleberry asked somewhat gingerly.

"No, stay where you are. I'll soon deal with the problem."

"Uh…what do you mean by that?" Huckleberry dared to enquire. "You're not going to…I mean, there are over a thousand of our people aboard…it's, I mean...you wouldn't…"

"Wouldn't what?" Akainu snarled.

Huckleberry fell into a blithering silence.

"That woman is a danger to the world at large and a symbol of violence against justice," Akainu harangued. "We will keep her from escaping at any cost. So far as I see, a crew of incompetent morons are expendable in exchange for that woman's life."

"No, please!" Huckleberry begged. "Give us one more chance to look for her! She must not be impersonating an officer at all! We'll check all the cargo holds…open every single crate!"

"You have one hour," Akainu snarled, and then ended the call.

In truth, he hadn't been planning to incinerate the vessel. Ships on this side of the Red Line were difficult to transport safely, as they had to go through Fishman Island. Anyway, he hadn't lied when he'd told Helena that he wanted the child to be the one to survive of the three living royals. A child was far easier to manipulate.

But he'd lit a fire under them. Would it be enough?

A weary, graveled voice cut into his thoughts:

"You're so sure she's aboard that ship, Fleet Admiral?" a man wearing a violet yukata beneath his Admiral's coat stood beside him. He faced the sea as Akainu did, and seemed to gaze out toward the ship in question, but a pair of haphazard old gashes across his milky eyes proclaimed him blind. "Seems to me we could check the ships in the dock more thoroughly before making such a tasteless threat toward our own."

"Don't make me question your appointment, Fujitora," Akainu fumed.

"Before you do anything rash, perhaps you should send me aboard?" Fujitora suggested. "I see things that others might miss."

Sakazuki eyed his colleague. He made a good point. Fujitora's self-imposed disability gave him other heightened senses, particularly with Observation Haki. But then, he had opposed the Schichibukai attack on Ilium, and had a nasty habit of disagreeing with the Fleet Admiral's ideas of Absolute Justice. Could Akainu trust him to bring Helena in?

"Fine," Akainu conceded. After all, though Fujitora said questionable things, he had never actually acted in a way unbefitting of his title. Anyway, with Captain Coby unconscious, Fujitora was probably the best Observer available. "I gave them an hour. You have the same."

* * *

Kuina's two sentinels had fallen asleep on watch. After all, child, woman, and reptile had all had an exhausting day.

Helena didn't need Lady to wake her, however. She sensed the dangerous presence, even in her sleep. Startling to her feet, she had her Gloom Island swords in hand before she could consciously process what was happening.

Someone had entered the cargo hold alone. Someone stronger than a fleet of marines. Helena gritted her teeth, and tried to still her breathing. Perhaps whoever it was hadn't noticed her yet. She peaked around her hiding place, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Poor lightning and distance meant she couldn't make out more than a tall, broad shouldered figure.

Remembering her disguise, she took a deep breath, sheathed her swords, and stepped out of hiding. Just then, the intruder stepped through the maze of boxes and into one of the round pools of light cast from the ceiling. Helena stiffened in a rigid salute as she saw his uniform.

An admiral.

"Sir!" she barked out, voice a confident mask to her fear.

He furrowed his brow and drew his sword. Immediately an unseen power threw Helena back into the side of one of the many surrounding crates, away from Kuina's hiding place. The stream of gravity continued to press on her until the wood buckled and broke behind her.

The Admiral lowered his blade, and for a moment the heaviness lifted from her. Fighting only the gravity of her own illness and injury, she tried to jump to her feet amid the wreckage, but that same power made a reappearance the moment she sat upright, pushing her back into the ground.

"You think to trick me for my lack of eyesight, Sun Queen?" he asked over his now raised sword, "You may sound like a soldier, but your aura was like a beacon, even to my blind eyes."

Helena bared her teeth but couldn't find the breath to speak. She had only just noticed his blank gaze, and realized that her marine uniform had been useless on him.

"I am going to retrieve the hostage now. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay put," he rumbled, lowering his blade once more and turning toward Kuina's hiding place.

The pressure disappeared. His mistake.

"Little girl," he called, his graveled voice kind and grandfatherly despite the ruthless power he'd just demonstrated, "It's alright. You're safe now…"

Helena let out a primal scream and jumped at him with two blades back in hand. Her swords made contact with his as he spun to meet her. He may have intended to use his sword's power on her again, but a certain white snake had just launched at him from apparently nowhere, biting him in the calf and ungrounding his stance.

For a moment, the pain seemed to distract him as he sought to both shake Lady off his leg and fend of Helena's quick blows. It didn't take long for him to regain his focus, though. A gravity stream shot downward from the ceiling, bending Helena's blades at the hilts, making them useless.

Lady had it worse. Apparently able to control more than one gravity stream at once, the Admiral hit Lady with one so hard and powerful that it knocked her diagonally upward through the ceiling. Helena sensed the poor creature fly through several ceilings in fact, until she ultimately flew through the deck several floors up. The admiral didn't let up, and launched Lady off of the ship and out of Helena's range.

"Hmph," he grumbled, "That should teach you, stupid creature."

"Lady!" Kuina screamed, running from hiding with her fox in tow. She reached toward the hole in the ceiling, tears streaming down her face.

"Beast," Helena snarled, whipping out her sea stone dagger. She'd grown to trust, depend on, even love Lady throughout their adventures together. Even if the snake hadn't been blasted into orbit, a fall from that height would inevitably kill her.

Helena realized by now that the devil fruit power lay in the man's sword, not in him. She didn't bother trying to attack his person. When her blade met his, she felt his surprise that he couldn't blast her back with another gravity well.

"You didn't expect the ex-Queen of Ilium to use sea stone?" she mocked, "I thought Admirals were supposed to be the best and brightest."

She yanked one of her belt swords free and went to stab him in the side. He dodged her easily, but his injured leg made him falter in his stance, distracting him. She pressed forward, keeping herself close so that her dagger wouldn't disengage his sword.

She dropped her sword and grabbed it in her toes, drawing another belt blade with her now free hand. " _Nine Muses_!" she cried.

The attack made a quick triangle around him, trapping him in a cage of blades moving so fast they became nine. Her dagger remained in contact with his blade the entire time, but though she cut the sleeves on either side of his coat, she didn't draw blood.

"You're stronger than I thought," he growled, "But it won't be enough."

Ignoring the pain in his leg, he widened his stance and pushed against her.

"I won't let you have Kuina, pig," Helena snarled, grounding her own stance and pushing back.

Haki crackled between them. A powerful shockwave surged around the two interlocked combatants, blasting the surrounding cargo and tearing some of it to shreds. The Admiral's power surpassed Hancock's by far...

…but Helena's had grown stronger.

Everything her child had gone through in the past few days flashed through her thoughts; the pain in Kuina's aura, still lingering even now, glared red through the queen's eyes. She would not, could not, allow the government to take her daughter, to hurt her more than they had already done. She was already scarred for life.

For a split second, Helena thought she would push the Admiral over as he faltered on his injured leg again. A curse slipped between his teeth. She pushed him back a few feet, and then…

Her body just…gave out.

One moment she actually thought she could defeat one of the Navy's elite, the next she collapsed onto the floor. Though her spirit was stronger than ever, her body simply couldn't take any more.

 _How?_ Helena asked. Her dagger had disconnected from the Admiral's gravity blade, and didn't hesitate to use its power to crush her into the ground. _This doesn't make sense. I'm stronger than this. I'm not hurt enough to be like this. Why won't my body do what I say?_

Stars popped in front of her vision as her ribs audibly cracked. She groaned, echoed by the groaning of the metal flooring beneath her. The Admiral let out a grunt, and lowered his blade, granting her a small reprieve.

"Hm, if I kill you this way, I could potentially sink the ship," he said. "But you're too dangerous to try to take in alive."

Helena coughed blood, but couldn't say anything more. Couldn't even push herself upright. He lifted his blade, only this time he didn't use its powers. He raised it high, ready to execute her with a clean strike.

"MAMA!" Kuina shrieked.

During the haki clash she had flown into a half-destroyed crate full of towels; the same ones they had been using before. She'd struggled her way free of the linens, only to see her mother in peril.

"Mama…?" the Admiral echoed, his blade faltering.

Suddenly the child stood at his feet, pounding on his yukata with her fists. She could barely reach his knees. "No hurt Mama, you meanie!"

He ignored her ineffective pounding, gazing over the child at Helena. "This is your child?" he asked.

Helena furrowed her brow. Blood continued to trickled out of her mouth, but she finally found a voice. "Let me guess," she rasped, "Akainu kept back that tidbit of information."

The Admiral's lip twitched into an unpleasant snarl. He grunted in annoyance and sheathed his blade. "We were told you had taken a child hostage," he replied noncommittally. "Do not worry, child. I'm not about to hurt your mother in front of you."

Shaking with exertion, Helena slowly pushed herself up on her elbows.

"I won't let you take us quietly," she said, going for her dagger. The Admiral's foot came down hard on the blade. It wasn't hard for him to step around Kuina to do so.

"Don't make this more difficult," he growled. "I'm granting you a moment of leniency, Majesty. Don't waste it."

"Leniency?" Helena scoffed, obliged to drop her sword and listen.

"I was misinformed about the nature of your situation with regard to this child at least. It makes me question what else I have wrong about you," he informed her.

He pulled his sheathed sword from his sash, hunched his enormous form, and seated himself cross-legged across from her. Even sitting down, he towered over Kuina, who stared at him with wide, wet eyes.

"I am Admiral Issho, also known as Fujitora," he said. "The nature of the fall of your country has never sat well with me. I am not keen on the Schichibukai, nor do I fully trust the Fleet Admiral's temperament. I've been told you are a dangerous, deranged zealot, wife to a pirate, out to topple the world order, but what I've found is a mother protecting her child."

Helena pushed herself upright again. Coughing up a bit more blood, she managed to get herself into a cross-legged position across from Fujitora. She leaned on the sheath of her mother's sword, breathing hard as she listened to his proposition.

"All the same, I will not act in a way that does not befit my station. It is my job to enforce the law."

Helena gritted her teeth. She took in a sharp breath to speak, something the blind Admiral heard. He held up a hand to silence her.

"There is one thing I answer to above law, and that is fate," he said, pulling a small wooden cup from his jacket. It clinked as he set it down between them. Inside sat a pair of dice.

"I don't understand," Helena rasped.

"If you roll a snake eyes, I will personally escort you to wherever you are going," he rumbled. "If you roll a seven, I will set you and your daughter adrift in a fully stocked life boat, and give you time to escape. Anything else, and you both come in quietly."

"I have one condition," Helena wheezed.

"I make no promises outside what I have stated," Fujitora insisted.

"A request then," Helena implored. "If I roll something other than a seven or snake eyes, make sure my daughter does not go anywhere with Akainu. He's done enough damage to her."

"Hmm…" Admiral Issho pondered this a moment, scarred brow furrowed deeply. For a moment he seemed like he wanted to ask her to clarify what exactly she was accusing Akainu of, but thought better of it. "I will see that the child is kept in safe custody."

"Not Impel Down."

"You're making a lot of demands," Fujitora observed. "Anyway, why would I send a child to Impel Down?"

"That's one of the fates that have been threatened for her," Helena informed him. "Another is forcing her into matrimony. With Akainu even. Please, you can't let that happen."

"I don't know if I believe you," Fujitora growled. "You're making some heavy accusations against the Fleet Admiral."

"You yourself said you don't trust him," Helena pointed out.

"I said I don't always trust his temperament," the Admiral clarified. "But I believe it is time you show whether or not you trust your own luck."

Helena lifted the cup. "Luck is something I haven't had much of these days," she rasped without humor.

"The child will tell us the numbers on the die," Fujitora said. "I trust children more than adults to tell the truth. She can count, yes?"

Helena nodded, then realized he couldn't see it. "Yes. She should be able to read the die correctly. If not, wouldn't you be able to tell with the tips of your fingers?"

"Too calloused," he said, lifting a hand to show her. "Anyway, whether she answers correctly or not, I will go by the words that come out of her mouth."

"Alright," Helena agreed. Kuina had come around to sit on her mother's lap. "Will you tell the nice man what the dice say, Kuina Bee?"

She nodded, clutching her fox plush to her.

Helena took in a deep, if rattling breath. She covered the top of the cup with her hand, gave it a shake, and placed it upside down on the floor between them.

* * *

"Akainu."

Fujitora held the snail before him, a receiver at his ear.

"Report, Admiral. Tell me you've found our escapee."

The snail perfectly imitated the smoldering impatience in Akainu's face.

"She was aboard this vessel, but is no longer." Fujitora's blind gaze stared off toward the nighttime horizon, where he sensed, rather than saw, the young ex-Queen and her daughter disappearing into the distance. "It would seem that the Sun Queen has taken the child and escaped aboard a Lifeboat…"


	33. Chapter 33 - No Rest for the Wicked

A/N: And thus the exposition ends and the story begins.

* * *

Ch. 33 – No Rest for the Wicked

"The rest I'm sure you can guess," Helena finished. "Two weeks adrift, and some stormwyrms later, and here we are. At my most optimistic I had hoped to make landfall or run into a friendly ship before running out of food. I never dreamed _you'd_ be the friendly ship!"

"It was your vivre card," Zoro replied, showing it to her. It hadn't grown back to its usual size. Odd. "I noticed it was shrinking, so we struck course for you."

"We knew there was a possibility you could be on this side of the Red Line based on the news about you being at Marie Jois," Nami added. "But don't worry, we didn't tell Zoro anything until you told him the provisos are no longer in play."

Helena smiled wryly at this. "They seem so silly now, in light of all that's happened. "

"Adherence to honor isn't silly," Zoro pointed out, and Helena nodded.

"No indeed it is not," she said almost to herself, then she looked up at the crew. "Thank you all for, well, everything. The rescue. The hospitality. For accepting Kuina as one of your own."

"That was a given," Usopp pointed out with a wide grin. "I mean, you're Zoro's wife. Kuina's his daughter. Not to mention we like you. Of course you're both welcome here."

Helena smiled mischievously. "Even with assassins and admirals after us?"

Usopp stiffened. He didn't seem to like remembering those little details.

Franky laughed loudly. "Not like they aren't after us already, sis!" he cried, smacking her on the back with his enormous hand. It kind of hurt, not that she cared. He was the crew member she knew the least, but she couldn't help but love him as she did the rest.

"Anyway, it's something we can discuss more in the morning," Nami put in with a yawn.

Helena knew she should nod agreement to this. Luffy had fallen asleep again, and the rest seemed close to it. Dawn couldn't be far off. It had taken most of the night to tell her tale. But Helena didn't want them to go. She wanted to hold on to their company for as long as she could.

No one noticed her sudden desperation. With yawns, stretches, and murmurs of agreement, the Straw Hat pirates started filing out. Nami placed a hand on Helena's shoulder before leaving, giving her a tired but warm smile. Others made this or that encouraging comment:

"That was quite a tale, yo-ho. But you made it here, and that's what matters."

"Don't worry, Helena-chwan! Your Prince is here to protect you now."

"You really are safe to rest now, sis. You've superrr earned it."

"Don't think for a second I'm scared to protect you and Kuina from Cipher Pol. I once took a whole elite team single handed! With nothing but my slingshot and a pile of beans!"

Robin woke the captain by pinching his nose with a disembodied hand, then pretended she hadn't. Luffy groggily followed his crew out, but not before stopping to rub Helena's head without looking at her.

"Welcome to the crew, Sword Princess," he told her sleepily, "It's about time you took up my offer."

Helena opened her mouth to respond, but he'd already walked off. How could she tell him, any of them, that she couldn't stay? How could she make any of them understand the final leg of her journey took her somewhere they couldn't follow?

The only person who could possibly understand sat beside her now, stifling a yawn. The husband who had once gone to the edge of the Styx and back with her. But though he might understand, it wouldn't stop him from trying to dissuade her.

"Well, shall we go check on Kuina?" he asked. "I'm thinking…you know…after everything that's happened to you, maybe you should stay in the infirmary a little while longer. Kuina can sleep with one of us."

"Wait," she rasped. "Not yet."

She didn't need to say anything more. He let her climb onto his lap and snuggle close. He didn't question why she needed some time to compose herself after telling a tale like hers. But what he didn't know was that she was cherishing every second now. Every breath she heard him take, every heartbeat against her ear. She tightened her arms around him and relished how he reciprocated. Despite his own fatigue, he patiently held her until at last she spoke:

"Zoro, there's something I need you to know," she said, looking up him. His eye met hers with a tired but intent gaze. She paused, carefully choosing her words, and he waited. He'd always been pretty good at that. Waiting.

"I need you to know that you were the right choice," she said, and her voice cracked. "Our marriage has been full of strife from the start, but I would choose you again given the chance."

"Though it meant the fall of your kingdom?" he asked with an incredulous chuckle.

"Yes."

Guilt shot through her to say it aloud, but the word came out without hesitation. Tears started down her face. Zoro's semi-teasing expression softened and he embraced her again.

"For all we know, this would have happened whether I married you or not," he reassured her, his voice quiet, sincere, and actually cracking with emotion. "At least this way, I could provide you and Kuina with some kind of safe haven."

Helena nodded. She hadn't actually thought of it that way before, but he was right. They had no way of telling whether Cipher Pol would have found another kind of opening. It seemed unlikely, though. Her marriage to Zoro had been tied up with her disobedience to the gods for letting him leave. The child she had lost – Zoro's child – had led to her war with them. And his influence on her had driven her try to stand up to a Government so much bigger and stronger than she could ever be.

Still his words gave her comfort. She managed a soft smile through her tears.

"I'll do my best to help you find happiness here," he reassured her. "I know it won't be easy, given the circumstances."

The smile faded. "Thank you," she said, but the words were polite, not heart felt. Zoro must have sensed it; he could generally tell when she was using her diplomacy voice on him, and he didn't like it. He didn't call her out on it though. Probably because he knew heartbreak like hers meant happiness felt a long way off. She couldn't possibly give any answer but a diplomatic one.

Anyway, her happiness wasn't up to him. Something they both understood even if neither said it.

"Do you want to go check on Kuina now?" he asked.

She shook her head into his chest, and he caressed her back in understanding.

* * *

They sat in silence for a while after that. Zoro knew there wasn't anything more he could say, and could feel by the way she held him that he was all she wanted at the moment.

Eventually she fell asleep against him. Though he was getting a kink in his neck, soon he was in real danger of following suit; it had been a long and emotionally draining night. But they needed to check in on Kuina, and Helena would rest better in a bed.

He lifted her, trying not to wake her as he made his way toward the infirmary. He almost made it, but jostled her opening the infirmary door. She straightened up blearily in his arms, just in time to catch an adorable sight.

Dressed in some of Chopper's pajamas, Kuina lay sleeping contentedly in the infirmary bed. She held the little reindeer doctor to her with one arm, the other wrapped around Foxy.

"Zoro, Helena…help me," Chopper moaned, tears streaming down his face.

"Aw…" Helena said. "I was wondering why you didn't come over to join us."

"Chopper, don't tell me she's stronger than you," Zoro chortled. "I mean, you can transform in any number of ways to escape her."

"Shut up, jerk! I can escape any time I want to, but…" the little reindeer's angry rant became a piteous whimper. "She's just too cute."

Kuina's parents laughed, but soon set about extracting Chopper from his adorable captor. Naturally Kuina awoke in the process. Zoro had set Helena down by now, and despite Chopper's protests that she shouldn't be lifting anything, she picked up her daughter and held her close.

"I love you, Kuina-Bee," Zoro heard her murmur, kissing the sleepy girl's curls. "You be good for your Papa now."

"You sure you don't want her to stay with you here?" Zoro asked.

"Want Papa…" Kuina grumbled sleepily, and Helena smiled, giving Zoro a knowing look.

Zoro obligingly took the kid, cradling her to him in place of his wife. Helena stole one more lingering kiss from him before lying down.

"Goodbye," she said before settling into the bed. "Sleep well."

Zoro smiled at her. "We'll figure out better sleeping arrangements soon," he promised. He wrapped Kuina in the blanket he'd used to bring her through the rain before, then turned to go. "You coming, Chopper?"

"No, Helena and I need to talk."

"I think it should probably wait til morning," Zoro pointed out, gesturing toward the bed. Helena's eyes were shut, her face relaxed.

Chopper sighed, but nodded. Retrieving an umbrella, he followed Zoro out the door and into the stormy night.

* * *

Helena's eyes shot open the moment the door fell shut. She forced herself to lay awake until their footsteps disappeared into the rain. She couldn't afford to fall asleep right now. This was her chance, and it would be dishonorable to put this off any longer.

Despite Chopper's strict warning, she stood on her feet, then made her way to his desk. It held her affects, as well as a pad of paper.

" _I should probably leave a note_ ," she thought, flipping on his desk lamp. Anyway, she had to kill some time to be sure that Zoro and Chopper and the rest of the crew had gone to bed.

She sat on Chopper's stool for a moment, pen in hand, thinking kind thoughts toward each member of the crew. In her mind, she thanked Franky for building such a beautiful, sturdy home for her husband and daughter. She thanked Nami for navigating their home to safe waters, and Sanji for all the meals he'd cooked and would cook to keep up Zoro and now Kuina's strength. She thanked Robin for knowing the history of Ilium; for the things she would be able to teach Kuina, and she thanked Brook for knowing the songs. She thanked Usopp for repairing Foxy, and for the fun stories he would inevitably tell her little girl. And she thanked Luffy, the man who had once smashed the _Going Merry_ into Ilium's shores. The man who had brought her and Zoro together. The man who had readily accepted her into his family, his crew, and just as readily accepted her daughter.

And yet, when she finally wrote her message, all she put were a few short words to Zoro. Just enough to help him understand. If she wrote anything more she might lose her nerve. She'd waited long enough.

Satisfied with her message, she took her mother's broken blade from its sheath, and stood. Soon she had made her way out into the brisk night, letting the rain soak through her borrowed clothes without a thought for her health.

She made her way steadily, calmly to the back of the ship, away from Franky, who stood watch at the helm. Safely assured that no one could see or hear her, she climbed the railing and stood looking back toward the way she'd come. Back toward Ilium, she hoped.

For a moment she gazed into the eerie waterscape around her. It seemed strange to have rain pouring down so heavily upon her, and yet it only dimpled the still water around the ship. No wind. No wave. It reminded her of the calm belt, but…calmer. Hopefully no sea kings lurked around here, but if what Franky and Nami said was correct, this Calm was only a temporary phenomenon.

It didn't matter. The Straw Hats could handle any hardship thrown their way. And her time traveling with them was done.

She raised her mother's broken blade, now able to pierce the flesh of a royal.

"Hades!" she cried into the night, glad that the rain muffled her voice. "I know you're listening. And you, Zeus, and the rest of the immortal gods. I have fulfilled the last of my duties. I have brought my daughter to safety. And now, I give my life in atonement for my crimes. Not in apology to Hera, for to her I will never apologize. Not even in apology to the rest of the Pantheon. I give my life in apology to my people. It is them that I have failed. If my blood may help any of those lost to find peace, please make it so. My blood is my final libation."

Lightning cracked the night sky, casting a violet glow on the clouds and the mirror like sea. Wind began out of nowhere, destroying the dimpled mirror with choppy waves.

So Zeus had heard her.

In her weakened state, it was everything she could do to keep upright on the railing as the ship started to rock. Another flash of violent, violet lightning and a dark figure floated before her. Masked in white, he reached an elegant, sable hand toward her.

" _Come,_ " her mother's voice beckoned. " _Come and take your rest."_

"You don't have to lie to me," she spat, turning her blade toward herself. "There is no rest for the wicked."

More lightening flashed, illuminating what remained of Peleus as it hurtled toward her abdomen, but Helena no longer heard the thunder. It simply didn't register to her ears, nor the rain. All her senses became attuned to the blade, waiting for its final bite.

It never came. A pair of enormous, hairy arms grabbed hers, yanking her off the railing, keeping her blade arm immobile. Hades vanished.

"Chopper," Helena murmured, not attempting to fight him. She didn't want to kill herself in front of someone, least of all someone like Chopper. "How did you know I was out here."

"I smelled your scent away from the infirmary. Oh, I knew something like this was going to happen, I just knew it!" Chopper's shrill voice rang into her ear. "Drop the blade, Your Majesty! DROP IT!"

"Stop calling me that!" Helena murmured, dropping the blade per his request. "I am not a Queen any longer. And I can't continue living after all that I've done. It is the swordsman's way. Please try to understand…"

"Not even for your child?" Chopper sobbed, his strong grip frozen around her though she'd shown submission from the moment he'd appeared.

"My child neither needs nor wants me," she replied softly. "She has Zoro and all of you. She will be happier here than she ever was with me."

Chopper's grip loosened just enough for Helena to get free.

"You see," she said softly, turning to look him in the eyes. "She is much better off this way."

"I'm not talking about Kuina, you idiot!" Chopper snapped. "I'm talking about your OTHER child."

Helena cocked her head. Telemachus? Had Zoro mentioned him to Chopper? "I go to meet him in the Underworld," she assured him. Not that it was likely the gods would allow her such a mercy.

"Huh?" Chopper blinked.

"You're talking of Kuina's twin, aren't you? The one Zoro and I lost?"

Chopper shook his head. "I didn't know Kuina had a twin. I'm talking about THAT one," he said, and his voice grew more intense. "The one you have inside of you!"

Mouth open without a retort, Helena stared down at the furry but humanoid finger he pointed toward her abdomen.

"It's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time," Chopper sobbed, balling both hands into fist as he glared down at her. "You're pregnant!"

Helena closed her mouth into an amused smirk. "That's not possible," she insisted, meeting his gaze. "You're trying to trick me into giving up an honorable death."

"I wouldn't lie about something like this!" Chopper snapped.

"But you and I both know I'm on my monthly," Helena pointed out. She'd started bleeding aboard the lifeboat. It had been a pain to say the least. Helena would have thought that with all the stress and lack of food, her body wouldn't have enough of anything to waste on a menstrual cycle, even a light one, but there it was.

"That's not your monthly," Chopper said, brow furrowing in anger. "You're threatening miscarriage! Don't you see? That's why I've insisted you stay in bed! That's why I've insisted you not lift anything and take it easy. For all we know, the baby is already dead, but until we go ashore and take an ultrasound, we can't be sure."

With Hades disappearance, Zeus also hid his interest. The lightning ceased. The wind calmed. Even the rain lightened into a drizzle. The calm settled in once more as Chopper had spoken, leaving the world quieter than before as Helena stared at him.

In the quietude, Helena remembered the past few months, how sick she had been, how food had been a burden. Her fatigue, her weakness, suddenly it all made sense.

Finally she bowed her head:

"The baby isn't dead," she said calmly. "If it were, Hades would have taken it and left a pomegranate behind."

"So you believe me?"

"Yes," Helena said, though she couldn't bring herself to return his smile. "I trust you are telling the truth, and I will be more attentive to your orders for the sake of the baby."

"So you won't try to kill yourself anymore?" Chopper asked, a relieved smile spreading beneath the tears on his face.

"I didn't say that," Helena said, and the smile disappeared. "I will carry the child to term, but then it is my duty to end my life. I have no right to go on after my folly. If I continue to live after my duty to this child is done, I live in complete disgrace."

Chopper pouted, brows furrowed. Amazing how he maintained such an adorable face, even in Heavy Point.

"In the meantime, please carry me back to the infirmary. I probably shouldn't be hiking across the ship in this condition."

"No you shouldn't," Chopper agreed, bending to pick her up. Helena placed a hand on his chest, stopping him:

"But before I go anywhere with you, I have a condition. You can't tell anyone any of this. Especially not Zoro."

"What?" Chopper cried, "But he needs to know…!"

"I will tell him everything in my own due time," she said. "But I'm trusting you as my doctor to maintain confidentiality. About the child. About my intentions after the child's birth. Can I trust you, doctor?"

Chopper's lip quivered, he looked like he wanted to say more, but finally he nodded.

"Good," Helena said, allowing him to lift her. "Let's go."

Chopper didn't say anything as he did as she asked, though she could tell the poor, emotional creature could have lectured her for an hour. Glancing back toward the sea, and the railing on which she had almost ended her life, she let out a sigh.

It would seem that once again she'd been condemned to live.

.

.

.

* * *

A/N: Gotta give Kudos to LinktoMyHeartPiece, who was the first one to realize (in the comments anyway) that Helena is preggers.

By the way, I've struggled with Post Partum Depression, and with suicidal thoughts, so this leg of the story was really intense for me. Not writing it, as I'm not struggling so much anymore, but coming up with it (it made sense to me that Helena would believe herself in dishonor and opt for honorable suicide. That lead to logical decisions within the story, and thus became fixed in my mind as part of the plot). I just wanted to let anyone out there who struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts know that you're not alone, even though you may feel like you are.

The three things that have helped me with my PPD: God, Therapy, and Meds. They're an effective trifecta. Gotta feed your spirit, heal your mind, and help regulate your body, know what I mean? Anyway, if you feel like talking to some random internet stranger who's walked through that darkness, I'm here. Shoot me a PM. Depression sucks. There, I said it.


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